•    . 


I    I 


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TDE  WITT  TALMA  G  E,  J 


DR.    TALMAGE'S    CHURCH     IN     WASHINGTON 


MEMORIAL    VOLUME 


LIFE    AND    TEACHINGS 

OF 

REV.  T.  DE  WITT  TALMAGE,  D.D. 

CONTAINING 

THE  NOBLEST  TRUTHS;  THE  MOST  DELIGHTFUL  NARRATIVES;  POETIC 

.    IMAGERIES;    STRIKING  SIMILES;    FEARLESS  DENUNCIATIONS 

OF  WRONG  AND  INSPIRING  APPEALS  FOR  THE  RIGHT; 

GEMS  OF  PATHOS  AND  ELOQUENCE;  GRAPHIC 

DESCRIPTIONS  OF  HISTORIC  EVENTS 

THE  WHOLE    COMPRISING 

A  MOST  DELIGHTFUL  COLLECTION  OF 
BEAUTIFUL  THOUGHTS 

EMBRACING  THE  RICHEST  AND  MOST  BRILLIANT  UTTERANCES  GIVEN 
TO  THE  WORLD  DURING  HIS  PHENOMENAL  CAREER 

BY  REV,  T.  DE  WITT  TALMAGE 

WHOSE  "TRUMPET  BLASTS"  HAVE  SOUNDED  ALL  OVER  THE 

GLOBE    AND    PROVEN    HIM    TO    BE 

THE  MOST  DISTINGUISHED  ORATOR  OF  MODERN  TIMES 

WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION 

BY  REV.   RUSSELL  PL  CONWELL 

THE  FAMOUS  PREACHER  AND  LECTURER 


Superbly  Embellished  with  a    large   number  of    Phototype 

and  Wood  Engravings 


TO  THE 

VAST  MULTITUDES 

WHO  HAVE  BEEN 
THRILLED  BY  THE  BURNING  ELOQUENCE 

OF 

REV.    T.    DE\VITT    TALMAGE,    D.D. 

WHO  HAVE  BEEN  CHARMED  AND  INSTRUCTED  BY  HIS 

BRILLIANT  THOUGHTS,  HIS  MAGNIFICENT  FLIGHTS 

OF  RHETORIC,   HIS  PITHY  SAYINGS 

AND  HIS 

UNTIRING    ZEAL    IN    THE    NOBLEST    OF    ALL    CALLINGS,  THIS 

VOLUME,  WHICH  CONTAINS  THE  BRIGHTEST 

GEMS  AND  GRANDEST  PRODUCTIONS 

OF  THE 

MOST  DISTINGUISHED  i'ULPIT  ORATOR  OF  THE  CENTURY 

IS   DEDICATED 


D.    Z.    HOWELL 

h     THE    OFy;CK    Of    THE    .IBRARIAN    OF    CONGRESS,    AT    WASHINGTON,    D.   G.,   U.S.  A. 


-STACK 
ANNEX 


PREFACE. 


FOR  the  great  majority  of  our  readers  the  title  page  of  this 
volume,  bearing,  as  it  does,  the  name  of  the  Rev.  T.  De  Witt 
Talmage,  is  all  the  preface  the  book  requires.  There  are  men 
whose  works  need  no  trumpeting,  and  Dr.  Talmage  is  one  of  them.  His 
fame  as  an  orator  carries  such  weight  with  it,  that  the  mere  announce- 
ment of  a  new  volume  of  his  writings  containing  a  full  account  or 
his  life  and  death,  is  all  that  is  needed  to  call  up  a  myriad  of  de- 
lighted readers. 

Who  and  what  Dr.  Talmage  was  as  a  man,  and  what  has  been  the 
story  of  his  active  and  useful  life,  may  be  gathered  from  the  account  of 
his  personal  history  which  we  append.  What  he  was  as  an  orator  and 
author  is  too  well  known  to  the  American  public  to  need  further  tell- 
ing. We  have,  therefore,  no  occasion  to  speak  further  here  of  the 
man  and  his  powers  and  performances,  and  may  confine  ourself  to 
some  remarks  on  the  work  which  we  hereby  call  to  the  attention  of  his 
large  circle  of  admirers. 

In  this  collection  of  essays  we  have  presented  to  us  the  whole 
man,  from  his  first  entrance  upon  the  field  of  American  oratory  to  the 
end  of  his  remarkable  career.  These  essays  embrace  every  variety 
of  subject  and  treatment,  and  are  marvellous  in  their  vigor  and 
diversity  ;  dealing,  as  they  do,  with  every  phase  of  public  evil,  with 
all  the  aspects  of  the  religious  situation,  with  the  charms  of  natural 
scenery,  the  attractions  of  Oriental  travel,  the  demands  and  duties 
of  home-life,  the  delights  of  the  heavenly  mansions,  and  a  host  of 
topics  too  numerous  to  name  here. 

That  these  many  topics  are  dealt  with  fluently,  ably,  and  graphi. 
cally,  does  not  need  to  be  repeated.  The  mere  name  of  Dr.  Talmage 
is  warrant  enough  for  this.  The  war-cry  of  reform  in  the  social, 


ii  PREFACE. 

political  and  religious  degeneracy  of  the  present  day  was  never  more 
clearly  and  earnestly  sounded  than  by  this  celebrated  orator,  and 
this  magnificent  collection  of  essays  cannot  fail  to  become  a  power 
for  good  in  the  land. 

All  should  read  this  noble  work  ;  alike  those  who  have  the  inter- 
ests  of  moral  progress  at  heart,  those  who  enjoy  earnest  thought  in 
its  freshest  and  most  vigorous  expression,  and  those  who  have  an 
appreciation  of  poetical  diction  and  dramatic  effect;  all,  in  short,  who 
love  what  is  attractive  in  literature,  noble  in  intellectual  elevation 
exalted  in  moral  principle,  energetic  in  reform,  and  graphic  in  state- 
ment, should  possess  this  book,  the  latest  and  richest  expression  of 
the  ripe  thought  of  one  whose  pen  and  voice  have  shed  lustre  on 
the  Christian  progress  of  modern  times. 

THE  PUBLISHERS 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Preface i 

Table  of  Contents , 3 

List  of  Illustrations II 

Introduction  by  Rev.  Russell  H.  Conwell,  D.  D 17 

LIFE  AND  TEACHINGS  OF  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE,  D.D. 

A  Giant  in  the  Religious  World. — Born  a  Country  Boy  of  Humble  Parent- 
age.— Last  of  Twelve  Children. — Belonged  to  the  Common  People. 
Character  of  his  Parents. — Their  Golden  Wedding. — Choosing  a  Pro- 
fession for  Life. — Turns  from  Law  to  the  Ministry — In  the  Theological 
School  at  New  Brunswick. — His  First  Pastorate. — Called  to  Syracuse. 
— Removes  to  Philadelphia  and  Becomes  Famous. — Pastor  of  a  Weak 
Church  in  Brooklyn. — His  Great  Success  in  the  City  of  Churches. — 
Congregation  Outgrows  its  Edifice  and  a  Tabernacle  Holding  Several 
Thousands  Erected. — The  Second  Tabernacle. — This  Building  Burned 
Like  the  Preceding. — The  Distinguished  Pastor  Not  Discouraged. — 
Erection  of  a  Third  Tabernacle. — This  Splendid  Edifice  also 
Destroyed  by  Fire , 21 

LIFE  OF  REV.  DR.  TALMAGE  CONTINUED  AFTER  HIS  DEATH 
BY  REV.  HENRY  DAVENPORT  NORTHROP. 

One  of  Four  Brothers  Who  Entered  the  Christian  Ministry. — Chaplain  of 
a  Pennsylvania  Regiment  during  the  Civil  War. — Marvellous  Power  of 
Presenting  the  Truth. — Character  of  His  Sermons. — Discourses  Read 
by  Millions  of  People. — Wonderful  Success  as  a  Lecturer. — Death  and 
Obsequies  at  Washington. — Estimate  of  His  Character  and  Influence. — 
GloAving  Eulogies  from  the  Pulpit  and  Press 41 

THE  PROBLEM  OF  LIFE. 

Is  Life  Worth   Living? — The   Money-Getting  Mania. — Bright  Examples. 

Do  Your  Best.— "With  the  Skin  of  Their  Teeth." 60 

EVOLUTION. 

The  Leaders  in  Evolution. — What  They  Teach. — How  Worlds  Were 
Made. — Survival  of  the  Fittest. — No  Natural  Progress. — Antiquity  of 
the  Doctrine. — The  Missing  Link. — A  Radical  Difference. — The  True 
Evolution 6  7 


iv  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

THE   CHAIN  OF  INFLUENCES. 

PAGE 

The  Philosophy  of  the  Chain. — Precept  and  Example. — One  Weak  Link. — 

The  Chain  that  Enslaves. — The  Great  Emancipator 81 

COMMON  PEOPLE. 

Life- Work  of  the  Common  People. — Business  Men. — The  Curse  of  High 

Position. — Stitch,  Stitch,  Stitch. — Persecution 93 

PICTURE-GALLERY   OF  THE   STREET. 

Life  Full  of  Labor. — All  Classes  Commingle. — Street  Temptations. — The 

Shams  of  Life. — A  Field  for  Charity 100 

HEROES  AND   HEROINES. 

Sick-Room  Heroes. — Domestic  Heroes. — Philanthropic  Heroes. — No  Rest 

Here. — Heavenly  Recognition .     106 

THE  SACRED   BATTLE-FIELD. 

Wild  Beasts  in  Palestine. — Jacob's  Well. — A  Moral  Lesson. — Old  Battle- 
Fields. — The  True  Cross 114 

THE  CURSE  OF   STRONG   DRINK. 

The  Cauldron  of  the  Fiend. — The  Drunkard's  Will. — The  National  Menace. 

— The  Rum  Fiend's  Curse. — Party  Servility. — Duty  of  the  Church .  .     121 

THE  BALLOT-BOX. 

The  Sacred  Chest  of  the  Hebrews. — The  Ark  of  the  American  Covenant. — 
Ignorance. — Spurious  Voting. — Intimidation. — Bribery. — Saloon-Made 
Candidates. — A  Property  Qualification. — Woman  Suffrage. — Power  of 
the  Ballot. — Our  Great  Republic 126 

DRESS  AND  DISSIPATION. 

Victims  of  Fashion. — The  Dance. — Dissipations  of  Social  Life. — The  Modern 

Bethesda. — Intoxicating  Beverages 137 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  v 

MEMORY   OF   OTHER   DAYS. 

PAGE 

Our  Childhood's  Home. — The  Double  Outlook. — The  Early  Home. — New 
Married  Life. — The  Gracious  Change. — Shadows  of  Sorrow. — Latest 
Trials. — Consolation 146 

SCHOOL  OF   BUSINESS. 

Conditions    of  Business    Life. — Grip,  Gouge  &  Co. — Straining  at  Gnats ; 

Swallowing  Camels 160 

THE   CHRISTIAN  FOR  THE  TIMES. 

Esther's  Work. — Aggressive  Christians. — No  Time  to  Waste. — The  New 

and  the  Old. — Gospel  Siege  Guns. — The  People's  Pulpit 166 

THE   MISSION   OF   PICTURES. 

Influence  of  Immoral  Pictures. — The  Lasting  Lesson. — A  Great  Artist. — 
The  Trials  of  Artists. — Philanthropy  of  Art. — Genius  of  Depravity. — 
A  Model  Picture 176 

LIGHT,  THE  WORLD'S   EVANGEL. 

The  Blessing  of  Light. — "  Clear  as  the  Sun." — "  Fair  as  the  Moon." — The 

Bow  of  Promise. — Velocity  in  Heaven 191 

ATTACKS  ON   THE   BIBLE. 

Is  the  Bible  an  Impure  Book? — A  Cruel  Book? — Contradictory? — Opposed 
to  Science? — Young  Men  Robbed. — The  Best  Capital. — A  Turning- 
Point  in  Life 199 

JOURNALISM    AND   EVANGELISM. 

The  Church  and  the  Newspaper. — What  Shall  Be  Done  ? — Utilize  the  Press. 
— Sunday  Papers  Deprecated. — A  Treaty  Proposed. — A  New  Testa- 
ment Reporter 200, 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 
THE  CLOUDS  HIS  CHARIOT. 

PAGE 

Sky  Pictures. — Significance  of  the  Clouds. — Royal  Equipage. — God's 
Morning  Chariot. — God's  Evening  Chariot. — The  Black  Chariot  of 
Wrath. — Power  of  Prayer. — The  Divine  Driver. — Three  Grand 
Occasions 215 

SIN'S  ADVANCE  GUARDS. 

Influence  of  Bad  Literature. — One  Woman's  Work. — Pernicious  Pictorials. 

— Progress  of  Infidelity. — Skepticism 228 

A  LIVE  CHURCH. 

Poverty  in  the  Pulpit. — The  Requisites  of  Church  Vitality. — Old  Insurance. 

— The  Gospel  Mirror. — Fashion- Plates .     236 

i 
THE  CEDARS  OF  LEBANON. 

Arborescent  Giants. — God's  Temple. — Scriptural  Similes. — Everlasting 
Strength. — Perfected  through  Suffering. — The  Present  Moral  Storm. — 
The  Botany  of  Palestine. — "  Woodman,  Spare  that  Tree  ! 240 

NATIONAL  EVILS. 

Unhappy  Homes. — Uniform  Divorce   Law. — The  Shame   of  Polygamy. — 

The  Reign  of  Libertinism. — The  Club  House 253 

GLORIOUS  OLD  AGE. 

Shall  We  Hide  Our  Wrinkles  ?— The  Almond-Tree  Bloom.— The  Old 
Folks.  My  Father. — His  Temperance  Principles. — Early  Struggles. 
— Closing  Scene. — My  Mother 262 

THE   BURDEN  OF  DEBT. 
Don't  Borrow. — Extravagance. — Grand  Larceny. — Bills  Due 273 

THE  COLUMBIAN  WORLD'S  FAIR. 

The    Fair    in    Tyre. — Great   Expositions. — Their    Religious    Aspect. — A 

Peace  Congress. — Horrors  of  War. — The  Bright  Side 282 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  vii 

CAPTIVES  SET  FREE. 

PAGE 

Raid  of  the  Amalekites.  The  Hot  Pursuit. — The  Joyful  Return — Our 
Lost  Treasures. — How  to  Recover  Them. — The  Decisive  Battle. — Re- 
ward for  the  Weary 292 

THE  MARRIAGE  AT  CANA. 

Turning  Water  into  Wine. — Lessons  of  the  Miracle. — Hide  Your  Sorrows. 

— Luxuries  of  Life. — Wedding  of  Christ  and  the  Church 303 

NATURE'S  LESSONS. 

The  New  Paradise. — Skeptics  in  Palestine. — Personal  Comfort. — Infer- 
ences.— Animal  Delight. — Migration  of  Birds.  Autumn  Leaves.  .  .  .  310 

OUR  DUTY  TO  OUR  CHILDREN. 

Educational  Evils. — The  Cramming  System. — An  Educated  Idiot. — Jeph- 
tha's  Daughter. — Wrong  Systems  of  Discipline. — Sacrificed  to  World- 
liness. — Not  Marriage,  but  Massacre 326 

DESCENDANTS  OF  THE  PILGRIMS. 

The  Past  Recalled. — The  Value  of  Ancestry. — An  Unfounded   Charge. — 

Characteristics  of  the  Pilgrims 339 

JOSHUA'S  BATTLE-FIELDS. 

The  Parting  of  the  Jordan. — Ark  of  the  Covenant — The  Ram's  Horn. — 
The  Victorious  Shout. — The  City  of  Ai. — Forward,  March  ! — Kings  to 
be  Slain. — The  Last  Battle 343 

DAMASCUS-OLD  AND  NEW. 

A  Storm  in  Palestine. — In  Sight  of  Damascus. — Saul's  Quick  Halt. — 
Fruitfulness  of  Damascus. — The  Rivers  Abana  and  Pharpar. — Moham- 
medan Worship. — A  Modern  Massacre. — The  Old  Damascus. — Sight 
to  the  Blind  .  .  '. 354 


viii  TABLE   OF  CONTENTS. 

AMONG  THE  HOLY  HILLS. 

PAGE 

Nazareth. — Boyhood  of  Jesus. — Birthplace  of  Parables. — City  Indebted  to 
Country. — An  Old-fashioned  Carpenter  Shop — The  Village  of  Cana. 
— The  Sea  of  Galilee 367 

WHAT  TEARS  ARE  FOR. 

Mission    of  Tears. — A    Mighty    Magnetism. — The    Last   Resort. — Poetry 

Changed  to  Prose. — The  Great  Sympathizer 379 

FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN. 

Bethlehem. — The  Childhood  of  Christ. — Temptation  and  Triumph. — Christ 
the  Healer. — The  Betrayal. — Trial  and  Sentence. — The  Crucifixion 
and  Ascension. — Christ's  March  through  the  Centuries 389 

WE  ARE  WITNESSES. 
The  Spirit  of  Doubt. — Faith  against  Logic. — The  Force  of  Testimony  .    .    402 

SACRED  SONG. 

Great  Organ-Builders. — Birthplace  of  Music. — Importance  of  Sacred  Music. 
— The  Royal  Old  Hymns. — A  Singing  Church. — Obstacles  to  Congre- 
gational Singing. — Delegated  Duty. — A  Coming  Revolution 409 

THE  RAIN'S  STORY. 

Origin  of  the  Rain. — Climate  Arraigned. — Men  Hard  to  Please. — God's 
Supervision. — The  Mystery  of  Rain. — The  Source  of  Tears. — The 
Father  of  Tears 420 

/ 
THE  LESSON  OF  THE  PYRAMID. 

A  Morning  in  Egypt. — Ascending  the  Pyramid. — What  the  Pyramid 
Teaches. — The  Noblest  Monument. — History  of  the  Pyramid. — A 
Voice  from  the  Ages 429 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  ix 

THE  VACANT  CHAIR. 

PAGE 

Mementos  of  the  Past. — The  Father's   Chair. — The   Mother's  Chair. — Th<t 

Invalid's  Chair. — The  Child's  Chair. — No  Vacant  Chair  in  Heaven  .   .    441 

THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS. 

A  Shipwrecked  Crew. — Kindness  Defined. — The  Quality  of  Kindness. — The 
Noblest  Revenge. — Kindness  through  Culture. — Kindness  in  Speech. — 
Optimist  and  Pessimist. — Kindness  of  Action. — What  Kindness  Might 
Accomplish. — What  the  Winds  Said 449 

EVERYDAY  RELIGION. 

Week-day  Piety. — Religious  Conversation. — Religion  in  D>ily  Work. — The 
Church  an  Armory. — Nature's  Charity. — Religion  in  Small  Trials. — 
Common  Blessings 462 

BORROWING  TROUBLE. 

Keep  in  the  Sunshine. — Enjoy  Present  Blessings. — Troubles  Need  Not  Be 

Sought. — Borrowed  Care  Unfits  for  Real 475 

TRAPS  FOR  MEN. 

The  Work  of  the  Fowler. — Temptations. — Meanness. — Liberal  Men. — The 

Dishonest  Employer. — Safe  to  Do  Right 480 

THE  OBJECT  OF  LIFE. 

What  Were  We  Made  For  ? — Not  Wholly  Responsible. — Causes  of  Failure. 
— Man's  Equipment  for  Work. — Use  Your  Opportunities. — Concentrate 
Your  Forces. — Modern  Longevity. — Heavenly  Duration 480 

A  HALF-HOUR  IN  HEAVEN. 

The  Busiest  Place  in  the  Universe. — Heaven's  Only  Period  of  Rest. — The 
Power  of  Silence. — The  Siege  of  Jerusalem. — The  Diocletian  Persecu- 
tion.— The  Inmates  of  Heaven. — Memorable  Half-Hours. — A  View 
of  Heaven.— The  Half-Hour  Ended 5°5 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Rev.  T.  De  Witt  Talmage Frontispiece. 

For  Thy  Name's  Sake  Lead  Me  and  Guide  Me 20 

Force  and  Spirit - 23 

Lost  in  Thought 26 

Earnest  Appeal 31 

Inside  View  of  the  Tabernacle 35 

The  Brooklyn  Tabernacle 37 

Reading  the  Scriptures 38 

Expounding  the  Word 39 

Is  Life  Worth  Living  ? 61 

The  Day-Star  Dawns  on  the  Easter  Morn 62 

The  Sure  and  Steadfast  Anchor 65 

Thou  Openest  Thine  Hand,  and  Satisfiest  the  Desire  of  Every  Living  Thing  .  71 

Create  in  Me  a  Clean  Heart,  O  God .    .    .  72 

Herod  and  the  Wise  Men 75 

The  Serpent  Worshipped  as  an  Idol  Destroyed  by  Hezekiah 76 

Jonah  at  Ninevah 79 

I  Will  Instruct  Thee  and  Teach  Thee  in  the  Way  which  Thou  Shalt  Go  ;  I 

Will  Guide  Thee  with  Mine  Eye 80 

Remember  Now  Thy  Creator  in  the  Days  of  Thy  Youth 83 

The  Beggar  Lazarus  at  the  Rich  Man's  Gate 91 

The  Fruit-Seller  Counting  Her  Money 92 

The  Harvest  Time 97 

Vanity 102 

The  Blind  Man's  Dutiful  Child 109 

xi 


xii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

Christ  at  Gadara 110 

Him  that  Overcometh Ill 

Jesus  and  the  Woman  of  Samaria 115 

Harvest  Scene  in  Ancient  Palestine 116 

A  Saracen  Charge 119 

The  Peaceable  Fruits  of  the  Spirit 129 

Joy  After  a  Night  of  Weeping 130 

Votary  of  Fashion 139 

The  Prima  Donna 144 

Waiting  for  "  Mother  " 147 

Home  is  a  Shelter  from  the  Wintry  Blast 148 

The  Old  Home * 149 

Thou  Wilt  Keep  Him  in  Perfect  Peace 151 

Suffer  Them  to  Come  Unto  Me 152 

TheSick-Room 157 

Ahasuerus  Orders  the  Execution  of  Haman 167 

Nehemiah  Preaching 168 

Good  Trees  Bring  Forth  Good  Fruit 173 

Jacob's  Vision  of  Angels 177 

Mary  Anointing  the  Feet  of  Christ  in  the  House  of  Simon  the  Pharisee    .  178 

The  Sermon  on  the  Mount 185 

Fall  of  the  House  Built  on  Sand 187 

The  Glory  of  the  New  Jerusalem 188 

In  the  Sun-Glow 192 

Walk  as  Children  of  Light 194 

The  Stormy  Petrel 197 

Thou  Shalt  Guide  Me  with  Thy  Counsel  and  Afterward  Receive  Me  to 

Glory 198 

Christian  Humanity 200 

Let  us  Walk  in  the  Light  of  the  Lord 205 

The  Best  Capital  is  Character 206 

The  Translation  of  Elijah 220 

Storm  in  the  Harvest  Season 221 

The  Death  of  St.  Stephen 223 

Worship  Him  that  Made  Heaven  and  Earth  and  the  Sea 224 

The  Glory  of  Sunrise 233 

Perils  of  the  Sea 235 

The  Lord  is  My  Shepherd,  I  Shall  Not  Want 239 

Thanksgiving  unto  the  Lord 241 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  xiii 

PAGE 

Magnificent  Temple  of  Solomon 242 

The  Raising  of  Lazarus 243 

The  Treasures  of  Winter 245 

My  Father,  Thou  Art  the  Guide  of  My  Youth 259 

Honest  Toil 260 

Sorrowful  Old  Age 264 

Her  Feeble  Steps 265 

Grandmother's  Thoughts 266 

A  Daughter's  Affection , 268 

Modest  Frugality 275 

Condemning  the  Unmerciful  Servant 279 

Thorns  in  the  Field  of  the  Slothful 280 

Columbus  Addressing  His  Men  During  the  Mutiny  on  Board  His  Ship     .  285 

The  Fear  of  the  Lord  is  a  Fountain  of  Life 286 

Peace  and  Joy 299 

The  Name  of  the  Lord 300 

The  Bread  that  Cometh  Down  from  Heaven 305 

Remember  the  Sabbath  Day  to  Keep  it  Holy 307 

The  Eagle's  Shadow 311 

Beautiful  Garments , 317 

Chloris,  Grecian  Goddess  of  Flowers     •    • 318 

Joys  of  Animal  Life 320 

Nest  Building  by  Birds 322 

While  the  Earth  Remaineth,  Seed  Time  and  Harvest  Shall  not  Cease     .    .  325 

Be  Slow  to  Speak,  Slow  to  Wrath 331 

Thanksgiving 332 

The  Children 337 

The  First  Wrong  Act 338 

Plymouth  Rock 340 

Joshua  Capturing  the  City  of  Ai 347 

The  Inhabitants  of  Ai  Witnessing  the  Defeat  of  Their  Army 348 

Damascus 357 

•  Scene  in  Palestine 358 

I  Courtyard  in  Damascus 363 

Lord,  That  I  May  Receive  My  Sight 366 

Jesus  Working  at  the  Trade  of  Carpenter 369 

Shew  Me  Thy  Way,  O  Lord,  Teach  Me  Thy  Paths 370 

Consider  the  Lilies  of  the  Field  How  They  Grow 372 

No  Night  So  Dark,  No  Day  So  Drear 377 


xiv  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

Work  Morn  and  Eve  and  Through  the  Sultry  Noon 378 

Flowers  for  the  Sick 381 

The  Solitary  Places  Made  Glad 385 

The  Joys  that  are  Unseen 386 

Two  Pages  of  Ancient  Scroll  of  Scripture 390 

Jesus  Blessing  Little  Children 391 

The  Garden  of  Gethsemane 395 

The  Angel  at  the  Tomb 397 

In  His  Days  Shall  the  Righteous  Flourish 398 

If  Sinners  Entice  Thee,  Consent  Thou  Not 403 

Be  Not  Rash  with  Thy  Mouth 404 

The  Entrance  of  Thy  Word  Giveth  Light 407 

Christmas  Carols 411 

Hymn  of  Thanksgiving 417 

A  Song  to  Cheer 418 

Fine  Weather  at  Sea 422 

Hold  Up  My  Goings  in  Thy  Paths,  That  My  Footsteps  Slip  Not  ....  425 
My  Little  Children,  Let  Us  Not  Love  in  Word,  Neither  in  Tongue,  but  in 

Deed  and  in  Truth 431 

Hall  of  Pillars — Ruins  of  Karnak,  Egypt 432 

Ascending  the  Nile — Near  the  Pyramids 435 

He  Casteth  Forth  His  Ice-like  Morsels.    Who  Can  Stand  Before  His  Gold?  437 

Cleansed  from  Unrighteousness  .    .' 438 

God's  Acre 446 

A  Soft  Answer  Turneth  Away  Wrath    .    .    . 453 

The  Morning  Visitors 455 

Joseph  Making  Himself  Known  to  His  Brethren  .    .    . 456 

In  the  Storm 461 

The  Worldling 463 

The  Path  of  Wisdom 467 

The  Lord  is  My  Shepherd 473 

-Let  Us  Love  One  Another :  for  Love  is  of  God   .  474 


REV.     RUSSELL    H.    CONWELL,     D.ID. 

PASTOR  OF   THE   TEMPLE  CHURCH'    PHILADELPHIA 


INTRODUCTION. 


INTRODUCE  a  trumpet-blast?  I  might  as  well  stand  before  « 
I  cannon  and  try  to  touch  it  off  easy.  Trumpet-blasts  introduce 
themselves.  They  are  heard  farther  than  their  praises  can  ever 
go.  Hence  I  shall  not  undertake  the  absurd  thing  of  introducing  Mr. 
Talmage's  trumpet-blasts.  I  shall  simply  stand  behind  and  yell  after 
them.  They  are  already  heard  around  the  globe,  and  echo  far  on  the 
second  circuit.  They  are  known  and  read  by  all  civilized  men,  and 
there  is  scarcely  a  cottage  on  the  islands  of  the  sea  where  their  voices 
are  not  heard.  We  hear  their  sweet  cadences  reverberating  all  about 
us  in  pamphlets,  books,  newspapers,  political  speeches  and  sermons. 
Talmage  has  become  classic.  He  speaks  in  his  own  eccentric  grandeur 
and  in  his  own  dialect,  but  every  one  hears  him  in  the  tongue  to  which 
he  was  born.  It  was  a  noble  thought  to  gather  the  most  brilliant 
utterances  of  such  a  grand  character  into  one  volume,  where  the  young 
and  the  old,  the  busy  and  the  man-at-ease,  might  all  find  an  anthem 
suited  to  their  training  and  appreciation.  These  trumpet-blasts  are  as 
terrible  as  an  army  with  banners  to  the  guilty  and  the  unrepentant, 
but  soft  as  cooing  doves  to  the  repentant  and  the  afflicted.  It  is 
marvellous  to  look  through  the  writings  of  this  great  man,  and  see  how 
accurately  and  gratefully  his  utterances  adjust  themselves  to  every 
calling,  difficulty,  doubt,  sorrow,  or  joy  of  human  life.  As  the  horn 
of  the  Alpine  hunter  is  said  to  quiver  the  leaves  of  the  violets  in  th( 
valley,  to  move  the  trees  on  the  mountain-side,  to  startle  the  cedar  by 
the  snow  line,  and  sometimes  to  stir  the  avalanche  itself  into  awful  and 
destructive  descent,  so  these  trumpet-blasts  of  Dr.  Talmage  have  been 

hea.  1  with  thanksgiving  by  the  heart-broken,  with  noble  respect  by 
2  (17) 


1 8  /A  TR  OD  UCTION. 

strong  men  and  noble  worm  n,   and  with  fear  and  trembling  by  the 
devotees  of  vice  and  crime. 

His  utterances  are  like  the  trumpet-peal  which  welcomed  our  car- 
avan from  the  desert  as  we  approached  the  banks  of  the  Tigris,  and 
which  I  have  no  doubt  has  since  welcomed  the  pilgrims  from  that 
sandy  waste  each  season.  Its  notes  were  clear  as  those  of  a  cathedral 
bell,  and  spread  themselves  over  the  barren  land  with  strangely  pro- 
longed echoes.  It  was  the  most  welcome  sound  that  we  had  ever  heard. 
It  was  the  announcement  of  the  end  of  a  long  and  dangerous  journey. 
To  a  bride  in  that  caravan  it  was  a  summons  to  a  home  where  love  ancl 
luxury  awaited  her.  To  the  merchant  it  was  a  hopeful  harbinger  of 
profits  in  Bagdad.  But  to  the  criminals  in  shackles  it  was  a  terrible 
declaration  of  doom,  and  was  resonant  with  the  dismal  sound  of  pre- 
paration for  their  execution.  The  same  trumpet  was  heard  by  all,  yet 
how  different  were  the  feelings  aroused  by  its  tones.  So  the  readers 
of  this  book  will  find  here  soothing  balms  for  broken  spirits,  fountains 
in  which  to  cleanse  the  social  lepers,  nutritious  food  for  the  hungry, 
brilliant  flashes  of  wit  for  mental  recreation,  and  a  clear  presentation 
of  the  Way  of  Salvation.  Each  student  finds  what  he  needs,  and  each 
listener  recognizes  the  trumpet-blast  as  containing  a  message  for  him. 
Here  are  the  wise  sayings  which,  among  few  others  of  this  era,  can 
never  die.  Talmage's  great  sermons  will  grow  greater  in  the  estima- 
tion of  the  good  and  cultured  people  as  ibr,  years  multiply.  It  is  true 
that  no  one  book  can  contain  so  great  a  man,  bu*:  in  such  a  volume  as 
this  can  be  gathered  comprehensive  and  illustrative  examples  suitable 
to  give  the  reader  an  excellent  general  idea  of  the  man,  his  words,  and 
his  work.  It  is  a  good  deed  to  utter  such  declarations,  it  is  a  good 
deed  to  publish  them,  and  it  is  a  good  deed  to  read  them.  They  sing 
to  the  mechanic  like  the  encouraging  notes  of  Tubal  Cain.  They 
threaten  the  entrenched  enemies  of  society  like  the  trumpets  of  Jericho. 
They  stir  the  blood  of  the  valiant  patriot  like  the  bugle-call  to  battle. 
They  awaken  the  sleeping  and  unconscious  like  the  trumpets  of  the 
Jews,  which  announced  the  morning's  swift  approach.  They  are  like 
the  pipes  on  the  house-tops  which  announce  a  birth,  and  like  the 
answering  whistles  of  the  life-saving  steamer  as  it  approaches  the  fog- 
enshrouded  and  sinking  wreck.  Go  out,  thou  printed  messenger  of 
the  sublime  Gospel !  Go  into  the  homes  of  the  rich,  and  teach  them 
generosity.  Go  into  the  cottages  of  the  poor,  and  teach  them  economy 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

Go  into  the  palaces  of  the  proud,  and  train  them  to  be  humble.  Go 
into  the  den  of  the  sinner,  and  tell  him  of  Christ.  Go  to  the  kind 
reader  at  the  bedside  of  the  suffering,  and  give  solace  and  healing.  Go 
to  the  school,  and  teach  the  lips  of  young  orators  to  be  really  eloquent. 
Go  to  the  college,  and  tell  men  to  be  true  to  their  own  individuality 
Go  to  all  classes  of  men,  and  tell  them  of  the  Shining  Beyond  to  which 
life  is  but  the  threshold.  And  go  to  all  who  have  not  set  themselves 
at  work  to  make  this  life  pure  and  the  other  life  secure,  and  tell  them, 
as  this  book  so  forcibly  urges,  that  to  be  a  simple  pure  Christian  saved 
by  Christ  is  better  than  to  have  otherwise  all  knowledge,  all  beauty, 
and  all  the  golden  eloquence  of  a  Talmage  or  a  Chrysostom. 

Such  a  message,  this  wisely  prepared  volume  by  one  of  the  best 
and  most  eloquent  of  men  must  announce  wherever  it  goes.  I  shout 
after  these  trumpet-blasts,  with  all  my  heart's  best  wishes  :  "  God 
soeed  thee  !  God  speed  thee  !  Heralds  of  light  !" 


^^B» 


LIFE  AND  TEACHINGS 

—  OF  — 

REV,  T.  DE  WITT  TALMAGE,  D.  D. 


THERE  is  no  Christian   teacher  now  living  whose  every  utter- 
ance commands  snch  attention, whose  words  inspire  such  fervor 
and  produce  such  conviction,  whose  literary  productions  are  so 
eagerly  sought  for  and  so  generally  read,  whose  writings  command 
such  prices  and  secure  such  easy  and  ready  sale,  whose  entire  public 
life  has    been  such  a  phenomenal    success,  as  the  subject  of  this 
biographical  sketch.   Like  Lincoln,  Wilson,  Grant,  Simpson,  Stanley, 
Luther,  and  even  the  Master  himself, whom  he  has  so  faithfully  served 
and  loyally  followed,T.  De  Witt  Talmage  was  born  entirely  outside  of 
the  ruling  caste  of  social  life.  UA  country  boy,"  of  humble  parentage, 
he  began  life  at  the  bottom,  though  destined  to  climb  to  the  top  of  the 
social  scale.    He  was  born  at  Bound  Brook, New  Jersey,on  the  seventh 
day  of  January,  1832.     The  last  of  twelve  children,  he  had  the  benefit 
of  his  parents'  experience  in  the  training  of  the  other  eleven,  a  circum- 
stance doubtless  not  without  its  beneficial  influence  on  his  later  life. 
The  Talmage  family  belonged  to  "the  common  people."      Our 
hero  was  not  born  in  a  palace,  nor  yet  in  a  dugout.  He  was  wellborn 
in  the  best  sense  of  that  term — born  of  good  stock.       His  parents 
David  T.  and  Catherine,  combined  those  sterling  qualities  which  com- 
mand the  admiration  and  approval  of  mankind — good  sense,  wit, 
firmness,  strength  of  character,  sympathy,  deep  piety,  and  activity  in 
Christian  endeavor.  Inheriting  such  qualities,  it  is  in  no  sense  a  mar- 
vel that  no  orator  of  his  time  could  draw  so  many  to  hear  his  words, 
or  command  such  terms  on  the  lecture  platform,  as  Dr.  Talmage.  The 


22  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE. 

popular  lecturers  of  the  century  have  come  and  gone,  risen  and  fallen  ; 
they  have  had  their  periods  of  popular  favor  and  their  periods  of 
neglect ;  but  of  this  man  it  must  be  recorded,  that  he  has  gone  on  from 
strength  to  strength  and  from  conquest  to  conquest,  ever  gaining, 
never  losing  his  hold  upon  the  popular  interest.  His  success  as  a 
genial  companion,  felicitous  conversationalist  and  writer,  eloquent  lect- 
urer, earnest  reformer,  popular  preacher  and  able  expositor  and  soul- 
winner,  has  been  most  remarkable. 

Dr.  Talmage  says  of  his  family  :  "  There  were  no  lords  or  baron- 
ets or  princes  in  our  ancestral  line.  None  wore  star,  escutcheon  or  crest. 
Do  our  best,  we  cannot  find  anything  about  our  forerunners  except 
that  they  behaved  well,  came  over  from  Wales  or  Holland  a  good  while 
ago,  and  died  when  their  time  came."  After  all,  what  better  start  in 
life  could  a  man  desire  ? 

His  father  and  mother  lived  to  a  good  old  age.  They  celebrated 
their  "golden  wedding,"  and  nine  years  later  his  mother  "sped  into 
the  skies,"  as  the  hush  of  death  came  down  upon  their  home  one 
autumnal  afternoon.  Just  three  years  from  that  day,  October  27,  1871, 
David  T.  Talmage,  who  had  attained  the  good  old  age  of  eighty-three: 
years,  passed  through  the  portals  of  death. 

Like  most  young  men,  the  subject  of  our  sketch  had  his  juvenile 
notions  of  what  he  "would  like  to  make  of  himself."  It  is  not  strange 
that  of  a  youth  possessed  of  such  gifts — a  fervent  imagination,  passion- 
ate fondness  for  nature's  charms,  unusual  powers  of  expression,  a 
manner  dramatic  in  the  highest  degree,  a  nature  vivacious,  electric  and. 
spontaneous— those  who  came  in  contact  with  him  should  prophesy 
great  things  concerning  his  career  :  "  He  will  be  journalist,  poet,  attor- 
ney, advocate,  politician,  or  reformer."  Having  passed  the  usual  course 
of  study,  he  entered  the  University  of  the  City  of  New  York,  from 
which  he  was  graduated  with  distinction.  He  especially  excelled  in 
"belles-lettres.  It  is  said  that  his  graduation  oration  was  received  with 

o 

"immense  applause,"  the  whole  audience  rising  to  their  feet  under  the 
spell  of  his  oratory. 

Leaving  college,  his  mind  turned  toward  the  legal  profession,  the 
study  of  which  he  pursued  for  a  year  after  his  graduation,  when  an  in- 
describable unrest  took  control  of  his  mind.  His  parents  wished  and 
God  intended  him  to  be  an  embassador  of  the  cross.  The  godly  ex- 
ample and  devout  worship  of  his  pious  parents  prepared  the.  way.  For, 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE.  23 

though  he  was  as  full  of  the  spirit  of  enjoyment  as  any  boy  living,  so 
that  one  writer  says  of  him,  "  New  Jersey  never  contained  a  merrier  or 
more  mischievous  lad,  one  more  active  in  field  or  more  roguish  in 
school,"  yet  there  prevailed  in  that  Puritan  home  a  religious  atmosphere 
well  calculated  to  indelibly  impress  and  pervade  his  mind  and  soul.  Dr. 
Talmage  says  of  those  days:  "I  had  many  sound  thrashings  when  I 

was  a  boy  (not  as  many  as  I( 
ought  to  have  had,  for  I  was 
the  last  child,  and  my  parents 
let  me  off),  but  the  most 
memorable  scene  in  my  child- 
hood was  that  of  father  and 
mother  at  morning  and  even- 
ing prayers.  I  cannot  forget 
it,  for  I  used  often  to  be 
squirming  around  on  the 
floor  and  looking  at  them 
while  they  were  praying." 

Under  the  spell  of  this 
new  impulse,  young  Tal- 
mage entered  the  New 
Brunswick  Theological  Sem- 
inary, connected  with  Rut- 
gers College,  and  began  in 
earnest  hi"  preparation  for 
the  ministry.  It  should  be 
recorded  that  he  had  pro- 
fessed conversion  at  the  age 
of  eighteen  and  united  with 
the  Dutch  Reformed  Church. 
Leaving  the  Seminary  in 
1856,  he  began  his  ministej 
rial  career  at  Bellville,  N.  J.,  a  small  town  on  the  picturesque  Passaic. 
Here  he  spent  three  profitable  years  in  preparation  for  wider  fields. 
It  was  here  that  he  got  down  from  his  stilts,  let  his  crutches  drop, 
threw  away  his  manuscript,  cast  to  the  winds  his  fears,  and  launched  out 
on  the  sea  of  extemporaneous  preaching — a  style  to  which  he  ad- 
hered with  success  throughout  his  long  career,  and  to  which,  indeed, 


FORCE  AND  SPIRIT. 


24  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE. 

he  largely  attributed  his  success.  Of  this  period,  he  related  the  follow- 
ing interesting  incident:  "  My  first  settlement  as  a  pastor  was  in  a 
village.  My  salary  was  eight  hundred  dollars  and  a  parsonage.  The 
amount  seemed  enormous  to  me.  I  said  to  myself,  '  What !  all  this  for 
one  year  ? '  I  was  afraid  of  getting  worldly  under  so  much  prosperity ! 
I  resolved  to  invite  all  the  congregation  to  my  house  in  groups  of 
twenty-five  each.  We  began,  and  as  they  were  the  best  congregation 
in  all  the  world,  and  we  felt  that  nothing  was  too  good  for  them,  we 
piled  all  the  luxuries  on  the  table.  I  never  completed  the  under- 
taking. At  the  end  of  six  months  I  was  in  financial  despair.  I  found 
that  we  not  only  had  not  the  surplus  of  luxuries,  but  that  we  had  a 
struggle  to  get  the  necessities,  and  I  learned  what  every  young  man 
learns,  in  time  to  save  himself,  or  learns  too  late,  that  you  must  measure 
the  size  of  a  man's  body  before  you  begin  to  cut  the  cloth  for  his  coat." 
From  Bellville,  he  went  to  Syracuse,  New  York.  In  this  larger 
field  he  proved  himself  equal  to  the  demand  His  genius  and  power 
put  new  life  into  a  weak  congregation.  He  drew  a  large  and  cultured 
audience,  in  which  professional  talent  predominated  in  influence.  Here 
his  fluent  and  eloquent  style  became  more  fully  developed.  The  saline 
climate  of  Syracuse  did  not  agree  with  his  health,  and  in  the  year  1862 
he  accepted  a  call  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  continued  to  improve  in 
his  own  school  of  orator*)'  for  a  period  of  seven  years.  Though  some 
fastidious  people  severely  criticised  his  method  of  speaking,  pronouncing 
it  "awkward,  coarse  and  inelegant,"  Dr.  Talmage  was  sure  of  his 
position,  and  persevered  in  his  own  vigorous  and  incisive  style,  much 
to  the  delight  of  the  great  majority  of  his  hearers.  While  at  the 
Centennial  Exposition  held  in  Philadelphia  in  1876,  the  writer  chanced 
to  fall  in  with  a  member  of  his  church,  whose  estimate  of  his  former 
pastor  was  not  at  all  flattering  to  him  as  a  prophet.  I  spoke  of  the 
great  stir  that  Dr.  Talmage  was  making  in  Brooklyn.  "  Pshaw," 
exclaimed  he,  "Dr.  Talmage's  success  won't  last.  As  soon  as  the 
papers  cease  booming  him,  he  and  his  '  Tabernacle  Theatre '  will  fall 
flat.  He  can't  preach,  there  is  neither  logic  in  his  argument,  nor 
symmetry  in  his  style.  I  listened  to  him  seven  years  and  am  quite 
sure  his  career  will  be  ephemeral."  So  thought  many  people  who 
felt  it  incumbent  upon  them  to  give  their  homage  to  pulpit  traditions. 
It  was  a  wise  maxim  of  the  quaint  Westerner,  Davy  Crockett, 
"Be  sure  you  are  right,  and  then  go  ahead,"  and  events  have  proven 


jte»i;i:i»JJ,i'H».M:il.l-l'1-"l'<J;-'^l!iJI 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE.  25 

that  Taimage  was  right  in  the  course  he  chose  to  pursue.  He  pos- 
sessed the  "divine  gift  of  genius,"  and  a  soul  all  aglow  with  the  idea 
of  preaching  Christ  as  the  single  mission  of  his  life.  He  felt  that  he 
had  the  gospel  message,  and  the  world  must  hear  it.  "  The  church 
was  not  to  him  in  numbers  a  select  few,  in  organization  a  monopoly.  It 
was  meant  to  be  the  conqueror  and  transformer  of  the  world.  For 
seven  years  he  wrought  with  much  success  on  this  theory,  all  the  time 
ealizing  that  his  plans  could  come  to  fullness  only  under  conditions 
that  would  enable  him  to  build  from  the  bottom  up  an  organization 
which  could  get  nearer  to  the  masses  and  which  would  have  no  prece- 
dents to  be  afraid  of  as  ghosts  in  its  path." 

The  congregation  which  he  served  was  the  largest  in  the  city  and 
his  prospects  were  all  that  could  be  desired  ;  still  he  was  not  satisfied, 
and  wished  for  a  church  having  no  fixed  policy,  and  no  controlling 
spirits  who  might  antagonize  and  retard  the  development  of  his  ideal. 
The  way  opened.  A  vacancy  occurred.  A  small,  struggling  congrega- 
tion in  the  city  of  Brooklyn  wanted  a  pastor.  Its  corporate  name  was 
the  Central  Presbyterian  Church.  Failure  had  followed  success,  largely 
through  the  close  proximity  of  the  church  of  the  popular  Dr.  Cuyler, 
until  the  year  1868,  when  the  Rev.  Dr.  Rockwell  felt  it  his  duty  to 
resign.  It  was  now  a  forlorn  hope.  The  church  remained  without  a 
minister  for  a  year,  and  the  membership  dwindled  down  to  nineteen 
persons.  The  prospect  was  dark  enough.  But  these  nineteen  were 
true  and  tried.  It  was  a  case  of  life  or  death.  Only  an  able  man  in 
the  pulpit  could  save  it.  Who  should  be  he  ?  Who  could  be 
induced  to  undertake  such  a  task  ?  The  suitable  man  would  have 
every  reason  to  stay  away  from  such  a  sinking  cause.  These  faithful 
few  resolved  to  make  an  effort  to  secure  a  first-class  minister  and 
resuscitate  their  church.  Among  those  who  did  much  to  arouse  the 
courage  of  the  faithful  ones  was  Judge  E.  C.  Converse,  a  gentleman  of 
great  earnestness  and  influence.  He  cast  about  him  for  a  minister 
whose  power  as  a  preacher  and  whose  tact  as  a  worker  would  build  up 
the  church. 

Through  acquaintances  in  Philadelphia,  the  attention  of  Judge 
Converse  was  drawn  to  the  rising  fame  of  the  Rev.  T.  De  Witt 
Taimage,  then  pastor  of  the  First  Reformed  Church  of  that  city.  It 
seemed  like  a  forlorn  hope  to  suppose  that  a  pulpit  orator,  whose 
reputation  was  already  beginning  to  fill  the  land,  would  heed,  much 


26 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE. 


less  accept,  a  call  from  a  poor  and  struggling-  church.  Be  the  result 
what  it  might,  Judge  Converse  felt  that  the  needs  of  the  Central 
Presbyterian  Church  demanded  the  highest  effort,  and,  besides,  he  felt 
that  the  rising  preacher  could  win  as  noble  a  position  and  do  as.  glori- 
ous a  work  in  Brooklyn  as  anywhere  else.  Emboldened  by  the  ear- 
nestness of  this  gentleman,  his  associates  commissioned  him  to  be  the 
bearer  of  a  call  to  Dr.  Talmage.  It  did  not  damp  the  ardor  of  his 
hopes  to  find,  when  he  reached  the  home  of  Dr.  Talmage,  that  four 


LOST  IN  THOUGHT. 

other  oalls,  backed  by  great  influence  and  power,  were  already  ahead 
of  that  which  he  bore.  One  was  from  a  leading  church  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, another  was  from  Boston,  and  another  from  Chicago.  Dr.  Tal- 
mage has  told  to  a  few  friends  what  a  struggle  of  contending  influences 
was  produced  in  his  mind  by  the  presentation  of  those  five  calls,  and 
the  beseeching  cry  not  to  leave  them  set  up  by  the  congregation  in 
whose  midst  he  was  so  happily  situated,  and  by  which  he  was  so 
greatly  beloved.  After  repeated  prayer  for  three  days,  he  decided  in 
favor  of  Brooklyn. 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TA  IMAGE,  27 

The  moment  he  had  made  and  announced  his  decision,  his  mind 
grew  at  ease,  and  though  many  of  his  congregation  came  to  him  with 
tears  in  their  eyes  to  induce  him  to  change  his  determination,  he  never 
wavered,  as  he  saw  his  way  clear.  His  first  sermon  under  his  new 
pastorate  was  preached  on  March  7,  1869,  from  the  text,  "God  is 
love."  His  fame  as  a  preacher  had  preceded  him  to  Brooklyn;  and 
from  the  very  first  every  service  he  conducted  was  largely  attended. 
Before  the  close  of  his  first  year  the  church  saw  that  it  would  be 
necessary  to  construct  a  larger  building  to  accommodate  the  crowds 
who  flocked  to  hear  him.  The  work  of  building  a  new  edifice  was 
begun  in  June  of  the  following  year,  1870,  and  completed  in  three 
months.  This  rapidity  of  construction  was  due  to  a  remarkable  pecu- 
liarity of  design  from  an  original  plan  made  and  elaborated  by  Dr. 
Talmage  himself.  The  principal  idea  was  that  of  a  half-circle  audi- 
torium, with  the  platform  placed  midway  between  the  two  ends  of  the 
arc  connecting  the  extremes  of  the  semicircle,  the  passage-ways 
or  aisles  radiating  out  from  the  platform,  and  the  floor  rising  from  the 
platform  outwardly.  The  construction  of  the  building  was  also 
unique.  A  rough  wooden  frame  formed  its  exterior  outline.  This  frame 
was  enclosed  by  strips  of  corrugated  sheet-iron,  covering  both  the 
inside  and  the  outside,  and  giving  to  the  structure  the  appearance  of 
half  of  an  iron  cylinder  set  on  end.  The  organ — a  splendid  one  by 
Hook,  of  Boston,  who  built  the  Plymouth  Church  organ — was  placed 
at  the  back  of  the  platform,  and  the  organist's  bank  of  keys  and 
pedals  was  situated  immediately  in  front  of  the  platform.  This  new- 
style  of  church  auditorium  was  not  only  original  with  Dr.  Talmage,  but 
it  was  revolutionary  in  character.  It  upset  the  whole  previous  theory 
of  church  architecture.  The  superior  acoustic  properties  of  buildings 
thus  internally  arranged,  and  the  advantages  they  possess  in  the 
matter  of  obtaining  a  good  view  of  the  speaker,  were  soon  rendered 
so  apparent  that  the  style  has  since  become  deservedly  popular. 

Besides  the  innovation  in  the  church  structure  itself,  Dr.  Talmag 
set  aside  the  practice  of  choir-singing,  then  so  much  in  vogue,  am. 
insisted  that  all  the  church  music  in  the  Tabernacle  should  be  exclu 
surely  congregational.     He  also  enunciated  the  idea  of  free  pews,  and 
carried  it  into  practical  effect. 

The  old  Tabernacle  had  no  gallery,     It  had  seats  for  two   thous- 
and   nine    hundred   persons,    and  by   bringing    in    camp-stools,  three 


28  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE. 

thousand  four  hundred  persons  could  be  seated  in  it  During  its  con 
struction  Dr.  Talmage  was  allowed  leave  of  absence  to  visit  Europe. 
He  was  escorted  down  the  bay  on  the  day  of  his  departure  by  a  large 
number  of  his  congregation,  and  among  the  last  sounds  borne  to  his 
ears,  as  the  escort-boat  turned  to  go  back  to  Brooklyn,  were  cheers 
for  the  Tabernacle,  which  the  congregation  had  promised  to  have 
-eady  against  his  return.  The  congregation  nobly  redeemed  their 
icdge;  the  Tabernacle  was  completed  early  in  September,  1870,  and 
dedicated  on  Sunday,  the  26th  of  the  same  month.  The  dedication 
sermon  was  preached  by  Dr.  Talmage  himself,  in  the  presence  of 
about  four  thousand  people. 

During  the  following  year  the  Old  Tabernacle  was  enlarged,  so  as 
to  increase  its  seating  capacity  about  five  hundred.  The  entire  cost  of 
the  church  was  now  about  eighty-five  thousand  dollars,  which  was  paid 
or  secured  by  reliable  pledges.  This  was  a  serious  tax  on  the  resources 
of  the  membership,  but  all  were  happy  in  the  achievement  of  so  great 
an  undertaking.  Unfortunately,  the  fruit  of  their  labor  was  not  long 
to  be  enjoyed.  On  Saturday  afternoon,  just  previous  to  the  Christmr 
of  1872,  the  church  session  met  at  the  residence  of  Major  B.  R.  Convin 
Having  settled  up  the  finances  of  the  year,  they  separated,  congratu- 
lating themselves  in  having  passed  through  a  series  of  glorious  suc- 
cesses. 

A  disheartening  reverse  was  at  hand.  On  the  next  morning, 
Sunday,  December  22,  1872,  Dr.  Talmage's  congregation  were  startled 
at  finding  their  house  of  worship  enveloped  in  flames.  With  astonish- 
ment they  gazed  at  the  unlooked-for  disaster.  Their  hearts  sank 
within  them.  When  the  hour  of  morning  worship  arrived,  the  build- 
ing was  falling  in  before  their  eyes.  The  fire  had  broken  out  about 
half-past  nine,  but  so  rapid  was  its  progress  that  in  half  an  hour  the 
entire  edifice  was  a  ruin.  The  knowledge  of  the  conflagration  was 
•oon  in  every  home  in  the  city,  and  the  expressions  of  sympathy  from 
other  churches  were  quick  and  hearty,  the  homeless  congregation 
being  invited  to  worship  in  several  of  the  largest  and  most  desirable 
churches  in  Brooklyn,  including  the  Plymouth  Church.  The  invitation 
to  use  Mr.  Beecher's  church  was  accepted,  and  thither  the  sad  con- 
gregation went  in  the  evening.  The  occasion  drew  a  vast  audience, 
and  Dr.  Talmage  preached.  Before  beginning  his  sermon,  he  alluded 
to  the  events  of  the  day  as  follows : 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE.  29 

"  In  the  village  where  I  once  lived,  on  a  cold  night,  there  was  a 

of  fire.  House  after  house  was  consumed.  But  there  was  in  the 
village  a  large,  hospitable  dwelling,  and  as  soon  as  the  people  were 
burned  out  they  came  into  this  common  center.  The  good  man  of 
the  house  stood  at  the  door  and  said,  '  Come  in,'  and  the  little  children 
as  they  were  brought  to  the  door,  some  of  them  wrapped  in  blankets 
and  shawls,  were  taken  to  bed,  and  the  old  people  that  came  ii>  from 
their  consumed  dwellings  were  seated  around  the  fire.  The  good 
man  of  the  house  told  them  that  all  would  be  well.  This  is  a  very 
cold  day  to  be  burned  out.  But  we  come  into  this  hospitable  house 
to-night,  and  gather  around  this  great  warm  fire  of  Christian  kindness 
and  love,  and  it  is  good  to  be  here.  The  Lord  built  the  Tabernacle, 
and  the  Lord  let  it  burn  down.  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord. 
We  don't  feel  like  sitting  down  in  discouragement,  although  the  place 
was  very  dear.  Our  hearts  there  were  filled  with  comfort,  and  to  us 
many  a  time  did  Jesus  appear — his  face  radiant  as  the  sun.  To-day, 
when  Christian  sympathy  came  in  from  Plymouth  Church,  and  from  ten 
other  churches  of  the  city,  all  offering  their  houses  of  worship  to  us, 
I  must  say  I  was  deeply  moved.  Tell  me  not  that  there  is  no  kind- 
ness between  churches,  or  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  Christian 
brotherhood !  Blessed  be  the  tie  that  binds  our  hearts  in  Christian 
love ! " 

Dr.  Talmage  was  not  discouraged.  Undaunted,  he  went  like  the 
bee,  right  about  the  work  of  rebuilding.  He  inspired  his  devoted 
people  with  his  own  unyielding  spirit.  Out  of  the  ashes  of  the  old 
shell  in  due  time  came  a  new  structure,  larger,  grander,  and  better  than 
the  former.  While  the  smoke  of  the  ruins  was  yet  rising,  measures  . 
were  taken  for  the  erection  of  a  new  Tabernacle,  and  subscriptions 
were  opened  for  the  purpose.  A  general  appeal  was  made  to  the 
whole  country,  and  the  task  of  erecting  a  mammoth  structure  was 
begun.  John  Welsh  was  the  architect,  and  nobly  did  he  perform  his 
task.  That  he  succeeded  most  admirably  is  the  universal  verdict  of  all 
who  were  acquainted  with  the  late  Tabernacle. 

The  congregation  secured  the  Academy  of  Music  and  made  that 
their  temporary  home,  and  for  fourteen  months  they  worshiped  there. 
We  extract  from  Dr.  Talmage's  first  sermon  in  the  Academy  : 

"  We  are  in  the  Academy  to-day,  not  because  we  have  no  other 
ph»&>  to  go.  Last  Sabbath  morning,  at  nine  o'clock,  we  had  but  one 


30  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE. 

church  ;  now  we  have  twenty-five  at  our  disposal.  Their  pastors  and 
their  trustees  say  :  '  You  may  take  our  main  audience-rooms,  you  may 
take  our  lecture-rooms,  you  may  take  our  church  parlors,  you  may 
baptize  in  our  baptisteries,  and  sit  on  our  anxious  seats.'  Oh !  it 
there  be  any  larger-hearted  ministers  or  larger-hearted  churches  any 
where  than  in  Brooklyn,  tell  me  where  there  are,  that  I  may  go  and  see 
them  before  I  die.  The  millennium  has  come.  People  keep  wondering 
when  it  is  coming.  It  has  come.  The  lion  and  the  lamb  lie  down 
together,  and  the  tiger  eats  straw  like  an  ox.  I  should  like  to  have 
seen  two  of  the  old-time  bigots  with  their  swords  fighting  through  that 
great  fire  on  Schermerhorn  street  last  Sabbath.  I  am  sure  the  swords 
would  have  melted,  and  they  who  wielded  them  would  have  learned  to 
war  no  more.  I  can  never  say  a  word  against  any  other  denomination 
of  Christians.  I  thank  God  I  never  have  been  tempted  to  do  so.  I 
cannot  be  sectarian.  I  have  been  told  I  ought  to  be,  and  I  have  tried 
to  be,  but  I  have  not  enough  material  in  me  to  make  such  a  structure. 
Every  time  I  get  the  thing  most  done,  there  comes  a  fire,  or  something 
else,  and  all  is  gone.  The  angels  of  God  sing  out  on  this  Christmas 
air :  '  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good-will 
coward  men.'  I  do  not  think  the  day  is  far  distant  when  all  the  different 
branches  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  will  be  one,  and  all  the  different 
branches  of  the  Methodist  Church  will  be  one,  and  all  the  different 
branches  of  the  Episcopal  Church  will  be  one. 

"  The  Brooklyn  Tabernacle  is  gone !  The  bell  that  hung  in  its 
tower  last  Sabbath  morning  rang  its  own  funeral  knell.  On  that  day 
we  gathered  from  our  homes  with  our  families  to  hear  what  Christ  had 
of  comfort  and  inspiration  for  his  people.  We  expected  to  meet 
cheerful  smiles  and  warm  handshakings,  and  the  triumphant  song,  and 
the  large  brotherhood  that  characterized  that  blessed  place  ;  but  coming 
to  the  doors,  we  found  nothing  but  an  excited  populace  and  a  blazing 
church.  People  who  had  given  until  they  deeply  felt  it,  saw  all  the 
results  of  their  benevolence  going  down  into  ashes,  and,  on  that  cold 
morning,  the  tears  froze  on  the  cheeks  of  God's  people  as  they  saw 
they  were  being  burned  out.  Brooklyn  Tabernacle  is  gone ! 

"  Good-bye,  Old  Tabernacle  !  Your  career  was  short  but  blessed; 
/our  ashes  are  precious  in  our  sight.  In  the  last  day  may  we  be  able 
to  meet  the  songs  there  sung,  and  the  prayers  there  offered,  and 

sermons  there  preached.     Good-bye,   old  place,  where  some  of 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE.  31 

us  first  felt  the  Gospel  peace,  and  others  heard  the  last  message 
ere  they  fled  away  into  the  skies !  Good-bye,  Brooklyn  Tabernacle 
of  1870. 

"  But  welcome  our  new  church  ! — I  see  it  as  plainly  as  though  it 
were  already  built ;  its  walls  firmer  ;  its  gates  wider ;  its  songs  more 
triumphant ;  its  ingatherings  more  glorious. — Rise  out  of  the  ashes, 
and  greet  our  waiting  vision  !  Burst  on  our  souls,  O  day  of  our 
r.hurch's  resurrection !  By  your  altars,  may  we  be  prepared  for  the 


EARNEST  APPEAL. 


Wei- 


hour  when  the  fire  shall  try  every  man's  work  of  what  sort  it  is. 
.ome,  Brooklyn  Tabernacle  of  1873  !" 

Dr.  Talmage  was  a  good  prophet.  The  corner-stone  of  the  new 
church  was  laid  on  June  7,  1873,  m  t^6  presence  of  a  vast  throng  of 
people.  The  erection  of  the  building  was  pushed  with  great  vigor  and 
success.  It  was  completed  and  dedicated  on  March  22,  1874,  in  the 
presence  of  the  largest  congregation  that  ever  assembled  in  the  city  of 
Brooklyn,  and  was,  at  that  time,  the  largest  Protestant  church  in 


32  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

America.  It  was  in  the  form  of  a  Greek  cross  fronting  on  Schermer 
horn  street.  The  lower  floor  furnished  sittings  for  thirty-one  hundred 
persons,  and  the  gallery  for  fifteen  hundred  more.  The  building,  with 
the  ground,  cost  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand  dollars. 

In  this  edifice,  Dr.  Talmage  preached  with  great  success  until 
Sunday  morning,  October  13,  1889,  a  period  of  over  fifteen  years. 
Then,  once  again,  the  alarm  of  fire  was  raised.  "  Where  is  the  fire  ?  *' 
"  Dr.  Talmage's  Tabernacle  is  in  flames ! "  "  Quick,  quick  to  the 
rescue ! "  It  was  too  late !  The  flames  swept  through  the  famous 
structure  with  a  force  and  headway  which  not  only  bade  defiance  to  the 
best  efforts  of  the  valiant  firemen,  but  devoured  everything  in  their  path. 
When  the  dawn  of  day  lit  up  the  scene,  only  two  tumbling  and  tottering 
walls,  that  might  fall  at  any  moment,  and  a  great  heap  of  charred  and 
smoking  ruins,  remained  of  what  had  been  the  most  famous  church  in 
America.  For  the  second  time  in  its  history,  the  Brooklyn  Tabernacle 
had  been  destroyed.  Both  buildings  were  burned  down  on  Sunday 
morning,  a  striking  coincidence.  There  were  no  services  held  by 
Dr.  Talmage  on  the  sad  morning  of  October  13,  1889,  but  the  Sunday- 
school  was  held  as  usual  at  3  o'clock,  in  the  Yonng  Men's  Christian 
Association  Hall. 

Dr.  Talmage  was  not  present  during  this  afternoon  service,  but 
was  at  his  home,  No.  I  Couth  Oxford  street,  in  earnest  consultation 
with  his  church  lieutenants  with  the  purpose  of  evolving  plans  fojr 
immediate  and  future  action.  The  following  resolutions  were  adopted 

"  We,  the  trustees  of  the  Brooklyn  Tabernacle,  assembled  Sab 
bath,  October  13,  1889,  at  the  house  of  our  pastor,  adopt  the  following  • 

"Resolved,  That  we  bow  in  humble  submission  to  the  Providence 
which  this  morning  removed  our  beloved  church,  and  while  we  cannot 
fully  understand  the  meaning  of  that  Providence,  we  have  faith  that 
there  is  kindness  as  well  as  severity  in  the  stroke. 

"Resolved,  That  if  God  and  the  people  will  help  us,  we  proce* 
immediately  to  rebuild,  and  that  we  rear  a  structure  large  enough 
meet  the  demands  of  our  congregation  ;  locality  and  style  of  buila.n^ 
to  be  indicated  by  the  amount  of  contributions  made. 

"Resolved^  That  our  hearty  thanks  be  rendered  to  the  owners  o 
public  buildings  who  have  offered  their  auditoriums  for  the  use  of  our 
congregation,  and  to  all  those  wiio  have  given  us  their  sympathy  in  the 
time  of  trial. 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE.  33 

"  Resolved,  That  Alexander  McLean,  E.  H.  Branch,  John  Wood, 
and  F.  M.  Lawrence  be  appointed  a  committee  to  secure  a  building 
for  Sabbath  morning  and  evening  services,  10.30  A.  M.  and  7.30  P.  M." 

Dr.  Talmage  next  dictated  to  the  reporters  the  following  appeal: 

"  To  THE  PEOPLE. 

"  By  a  sudden  calamity  we  are  without  a  church.  The  building 
associated  with  so  much  that  is  dear  to  us  is  in  ashes.  In  behalf  of  my 
stricken  congregation  I  make  appeal  for  help,  as  our  church  has  never 
confined  its  work  to  this  locality.  Our  church  has  never  been  sufficient 
either  in  size  or  appointments  for  the  people  who  come.  We  want  to 
build  something  worthy  of  our  city  and  worthy  the  cause  of  God.  We 
want  one  hundred  thousand  dollars,  which  added  to  the  insurance,  will 
build  what  is  needed.  I  make  appeal  to  all  our  friends  throughout 
Christendom,  to  all  denominations,  to  all  creeds  and  those  of  no  creed 
at  all,  to  come  to  our  assistance. 

"  I  ask  all  readers  of  my  sermons  the  world  over  to  contribute  as  far 
as  their  means  will  allow.  What  we  shall  do  as  a  church  depends 
upon  the  immediate  response  made  to  this  call.  I  was  on  the  eve  of 
my  departure  for  a  brief  visit  to  the  Holy  Land,  that  I  might  be  better 
prepared  for  my  work  here,  but  that  visit  must  be  postponed.  I 
cannot  leave  until  something  is  done  to  decide  our  future.  May  the 
God  who  has  our  destiny  as  individuals  and  churches  in  his  hand  appear 
for  our  deliverance. 

"Response  to  this  appeal  to  the  people  may  be  sent  to  me, 
'Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,'  and  I  will,  with  my  own  hands,  acknowledge  the 
receipt  thereof. 

"T.  DE  WITT  TALMAGE." 

"  History  has  almost  repeated  itself,"  said  the  Reverend  Doctor 
sadly,  "  for  it  was  just  seventeen  years  ago,  and  upon  a  Sabbath 
morning,  that  we  had  a  similar  visitation  of  fire.  Myself  and  family, 
who  had  been  alarmed,  stood  in  the  glass  cupola  surmounting  the 
house,  and  saw  our  beloved  Sabbath-home  moulder  away.  We  could 
distinguish  every  arch,  beam  and  rafter,  and  see  them  crumble  beneath 
the  cruel  flames.  Shortly  after,  I  visited  the  scene  myself,  and  it  made 
my  heart  sad.  The  subject  of  my  sermon  was  to  have  been,  'Looking 
unto  Jesus,  the  Author  and  Finisher  of  our  Faith.' " 

3 


34  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE. 

Many  were  the  offers  received  from  sister  churches  and  theatre 
managers  proffering  the  use  of  their  auditoriums  for  services.  As  Dr. 
Talmage  said  himself: — 

"The  kindness  shown  us  in  our  hour  of  need  is  most  manifest 
Nearly  every  auditorium  within  a  radius  of  three  miles  has  been 
tendered  us,  but  the  committee  has  finally  decided  to  take  the 
Academy  of  Music,  and  we  shall  hold  service  there  at  the  usual  hours 
on  Sunday  next." 

Among  the  many  offers  was  one  from  the  Rev.  Lyman  Abbott,  of 
Plymouth  Church,  a  former  classmate  of  Dr.  Talmage.  It  was  couched 
as  follows : 

"PLYMOUTH  CHURCH,  BROOKLYN,  Oct.  13,  1889. 
"My  dear  Dr.  Talmage:  The  Board  of  Deacons  of  Plymouth 
Church  authorize  me  to  tender  to  your  people  the  use  of  our  church 
edifice  on  Sunday  evenings  until  your  permanent  arrangements 
for  your  future  church  have  been  made.  It  is  quite  at  your  service 
and  theirs  for  as  long  as  you  may  desire.  I  ant  sure  that  I  need 
not  add  that  I  cordially  unite  with  them,  and  that  1  am  sure  that  their 
action  represents  the  sentiment  and  feeling  that  Plymouth  Church 
bears  to  the  Tabernacle  in  this  calamity  which  has  befalietf  them, 

"  Your  old  friend, 

"  LYMAN  ABBOTT." 

It  is  best  to  complete  the  story  of  the  Tabernacle,  before  giving  an 
account  of  other  events  in  Dr.  Talmage's  public  life.  Energetic  steps, 
as  we  have  seen,  were  at  once  taken  towards  replacing  the  ruined  church 
with  a  more  magnificent  structure,  and  as  soon  as  sufficient  funds 
could  be  raised  and  the  necessary  plans  completed,  the  work  of 
erection  was  earnestly  begun.  The  new  church  was  finished  in  the 
spring  of  1891,  and  the  dedication  services  took  place  on  April  26th 
of  that  year.  Its  character  and  dimensions  may  be  briefly  described. 
The  edifice  was  of  the  Norman  style  of  architecture,  and  was  built  of 
dark  red  Connecticut  granite,  with  facings  of  brown-stone  from  Lake 
Superior,  forming  a  pleasant  contrast  in  color.  Over  the  two  upper 
entrances — one  fronting  on  Clinton  avenue,  the  other  on  Greene 
avenue — there  was  a  rounding  projection,  which  formed  the  base  of  a 
square  tower  of  massive  proportions,  with  a  slender  round  turret  at 
each  corner. 


INSIDE  VIEW  OF  THE  TABERNACLE. 


DR.    TALMAGE'S    RESIDENCE    IN    WASHINGTON 


/HE  BROOKLYN  TABERNACLE. 


38  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

preached  his  first  sermon  in  the  new  Tabernacle,  to  an  overflowing 
host  of  people,  who  were  drawn  thither  alike  .by  the  noble  church  and 
its  eloquent  pastor. 

During  the   period  of  his   Brooklyn   pastorate   Dr.  Talmage  has 

paid  several  visits  to  the  Old  World,  of 
which  some  mention  is  here  desirable. 
The  first  was  made  in  1879.  On  May 
28th  of  that  year  he  took  passage  on  the 
Cunard  steamer  "  Gallia,"  leaving  land  with 
an  enthusiastic  farewell  ovation  from  his 
congregation.  He  reached  England  on 
Saturday,  June  7th,  after  a  quick  and  un- 
eventful voyage,  and  on  the  following  day 
attended  service  at  Westminster  Abbey, 
where  he  had  the  valued  privilege  of  hear- 
ing Canon  Farrar  and  Dean  Stanley.  In 
the  evening  he  visited  Dr.  Spurgeon's 
Metropolitan  Tabernacle,  and  was  warmly 
greeted  after  the  sermon  by  that  famous 
pastor.  He  afterwards  visited  many  cities 
of  Great  Britain,  and  preached  to  crowded 
and  enthusiastic  audiences.  His  journey 
was  a  constant  ovation.  Mr.  Spurgeon 
says  of  his  sermons:  "They  lay  hold  of 
my  inmost  soul ;  certainly  the  Lord  is  with 
this  mighty  man  of  valor."  Dr.  Talmage 
returned  to  America  in  October,  and  was 
warmly  received  at  the  Tabernacle,  an 
immense  audience  greeting  him,  as  he  en- 
tered, with  a  storm  of  applause  which 
showed  clearly  the  high  estimation  in  which 
his  own  people  held  him. 

In  the  summer  of  1885  he  again  visited 
England,  where  he  was  received  even  more  warmly  than  on  his  former 
visit.  Among  the  sermons  he  preached  was  one  delivered  in  the 
celebrated  Wesleyan  Chapel,  of  London,  behind  which  is  the  grave  of 
John  Wesley,  and  in  front  of  which  is  Bunhill  burying-ground,  where 
lie  the  bones  of  John  Bunyan,  Isaac  Watts,  Daniel  Defoe,  and  Home 


READING  THE  SCRIPTURES. 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMA  GE.  .        39 

Tooke.  The  church  was  crowded  to  suffocation,  and  a  still  larger 
congregation  gathered  in  the  street  and  in  the  graveyard  in  front, 
whom  Dr.  Talmage  addressed  after  the  completion  of  his  church  service. 
Later  in  the  season,  he  preached  in  the  United  Presbyterian  Synod 
Hall,  Edinburgh,  to  an  audience  equally  dense. 

A  third  notable  visit  to  the  Old  World  was  made  after  the  de- 
struction of  the  second  Tabernacle.  D. 
Talmage  had  for  some  time  contem  i 
plated  writing  a  "Life  of  Christ."  Many 
of  the  numerous  works  under  this  title 
had  been  written  by  persons  who  had 
no  personal  knowledge  of  Palestine.  It 
was  his  opinion  that  to  adapt  one's  self 
properly  for  such  a  task,  he  must  visit 
the  Holy  Land  himself.  Accordingly, 
in  October,  1889,  he  again  crossed  the 
ocean,  and  remained  absent  till  the 
spring  of  1890,  during  which  time  he 
traversed  Palestine,  closely  observing 
the  places  made  memorable  in  the  his- 
tory of  our  Lord  and  Christ,  and  also 
visited  Rome,  Athens,  Corinth,  Alex- 
andria, and  Cairo.  For  several  months 
after  his  return  he  preached  a  series  of 
sermons  on  the  "Holy  Land,"  using, 
in  the  absence  of  a  church  of  his  own, 
the  Academy  of  Music,  Brooklyn,  in 
the  morning,  and  the  New  York  Acad- 
emy of  Music  in  the  evening.  This  latter 
immense  building  was  filled  to  over- 
flowing by  his  audiences. 

Another  excursion  made  by  Dr.  Tal  I 
mage,  of  sufficient  importance  to  put  here  upon  record,  was  into  the 
haunts  of  sin  in  New  York  city,  those  plague-spots  of  evil  with  which 
the  great  metropolis  is  abundantly  infested.  Of  these  homes  of  evil 
he  made  a  midnight  exploration,  under  the  protection  of  the  police, 
and  accompanied  by  two  members  of  his  own  church.  The  discourses 
which  he  delivered  as  a  result  of  his  pilgrimage  into  this  pit  of  human 


EXPOUNDING  THE  WORD. 


40  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

abomination  produced  intense  interest  and  mnch  feeling,  both 
favorable  and  hostile. 

Few  men  ever  had  more  enthusiastic  friends  than  Dr.  Talmage; 
and  few  men  of  worth  have  ever  been  more  misrepresented.  He 
was  for  years  a  target  of  criticism,  ridicule  and  abuse  by  his 
enemies,  yet  he  did  not  swerve  an  inch  from  what  he  believed  the 
path  of  duty,  nor  did  his  influence  for  good  decrease  in  consequence 
of  these  ill-natured  and  unfounded  assaults. 

Personally  Dr.  Talmage  was  a  man  of  commanding  presence. 
To  quote  from  one  of  his  biographers,  one  saw  in  him  a  "  tall,  stal- 
wart man,  slightly  stooping  ;  broad-shouldered,  long-armed,  bony  and 
spare  of  flesh  ;  a  massive,  superbly  developed  head,  bald  on  the  top ; 
an  expansive  brow  ;  rather  small  and  deeply-set  blue  eyes,  that  now 
laughed  like  sunbeams  and  now  blazed  like  forked  lightnings;  a  large, 
mobile  mouth ;  a  square,  pugnacious  jaw,  trimmed  with  spare  sandy 
side-whiskers  ;  the  whole  figure  clad  in  plain  black.  He  was  not  a 
handsome  man,  nor  the  miracle  of  ugliness  the  caracturists  have 
tried  to  make  him.  He  was  a  commanding  and  intellectual  figure, 
compelling  respect  and  inviting  confidence  and  affection. 

Whether  reading  the  Scripture  lesson,  offering  prayer,  or 
preaching,  he  stood  alone  on  the  open  platform,  not  even  a  reading- 
desk  before  him.  His  sermons  were  carefully  prepared  beforehand, 
but  delivered  without  a  scrap  of  manuscript.  The  preacher's  voice 
was  powerful,  far-reaching,  never  monotonous.  It  expressed  every 
possible  sentiment  with  faultless  modulation.  His  gestures  were 
vigorous,  not  profuse,  dramatic  and  impressive.  His  speech  was 
unconventional,  informal,  never  undignified. 

The  above  eulogistic  remarks  call  for  no  addition  and  no  criti- 
cism. They  paint  the  man  as  he  really  was.  Whether  in  the  cir- 
cle of  his  friends  in  the  ease  of  his  chair,  or  on  the  platform  before  his 
audience,  Dr.  Talmage  always  impressed  one  as  an  earnest,  whole- 
souled,  and  vigorous  personage,  genial  in  companionship,  thought- 
ful and  impressive  in  address,  and  powerful  in  oratory,  carrying  Jiis 
hearers  along  by  the  magnetic  qualities  of  his  voice  and  the  natural 
adaptation  of  his  gestures,  till  one  forgot  that  he  was  listening  t )  an 
oration,  and  seemed  to  live  in  the  flowing  tide  of  the  speaker's 
thought.  Dr.  Talmage  had  to  be  heard  to  be  appreciated,  and  few 
have  been  heard  by  a  greater  number  of  entranced  listeners. 


THE  LIFE  OE 

REV.  T.  DE  WITT  TALMAGE,  D.  D. 

Continued  and  Completed  After  His  Death 

-BY  — 

REV.  HENRY  DAVENPORT  NORTHROP. 


One  of  Dr.  Talmage's  biographers  furnishes  the  following 
account : — 

"  It  was  from  Philadelphia  that  the  fame  of  his  preaching  first 
began  to  go  forth  over  the  country,  and  the  publication  of  his  ser- 
mons was  first  undertaken  while  he  was  there.  When  he  resigned 
in  1869  from  the  Second  Reformed  Church  of  Philadelphia,  it 
was  owing  to  his  accepting  one  of  several  urgently  offered  pas- 
torates, those  of  the  Calvary  Church,  of  Chicago  ;  a  church  in  San 
Francisco  and  the  Central  Church,  of  Brooklyn,  which  he  later 
made  celebrated  as  the  Tabernacle. 

"  Dr.  Talinage  was  one  of  four  brothers  out  of  a  New  Jersey 
family  of  twelve  who  entered  the  Christian  ministry.  His  father, 
David  T.  Talmage,  of  Bound  Brook,  where  De  Witt,  the  youngest 
child,  was  born,  January  7,  1832,  belonged  to  what  his  son  described 
as  '  the  aristocracy  of  hard  knuckles,'  but  the  boys  managed  to 
obtain  good  educations,  De  Witt  studying  at  the  University  of  the 
City  of  New  York.  Here,  although  making  no  remarkable  record 
in  any  branch  of  his  curriculum  save  belles-lettres,  with  which  to 
the  end  of  his  life  he  remained  in  the  closest  touch,  he  soon  became 
famous  among  his  fellows  for  his  dramatic  and  oratorical  powers. 
When  he  was  graduated,  in  May,  1853,  the  exercises  being  held  in 
Niblo's  Garden,  he  fired  a  large  audience  to  fervid  applause  by  his 
essay  on  '  The  Moral  Effects  of  Sculpture  and  Architecture.' 

"Dr.  Talmage's  first  inclination,  aftergraduation  was  toward  the 
study  of  law,  to  which  he  gave  three  years,  finally  abandoning  it  to 
enter  the  Reformed  Dutch  Theological  Seminary  of  New  Bruns- 
wick, N.  J.  Immediately  after  his  ordination  in  1856  he  was  called 
to  a  pastorate  at  Belleville,  N.  J.,  then  in  1859  to  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

41 


42  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

The  Second  Reformed  Dutch  Church,  of  Philadelphia,  was  his  third 
charge.  He  was  called  there  in  1862,  filling  during  the  Civil  War 
the  post  of  chaplain  of  a  Pennsylvania  regiment  and  remained 
until  1869. 

"  During  this  time  his  marvelous  power  of  presenting  religious 
truths  in  language  lofty  enough  for  the  cultured  and  simple  enough 
for  the  plainest  people  began  to  be  fully  recognized,  and  before  he 
left  the  church  was  unable  to  hold  one-fourth  of  the  multitude  who 
sought  admission.  He  also  commenced  the  series  of  platform 
lectures  which  became  so  prominent  a  feature  of  his  public  career. 

"Bvery  financial  inducement  to  remain  was  offered  him  when  he 
determined  to  leave  Philadelphia  for  the  Central  Church  of  Brooklyn. 
Thereby  hangs  a  curious  story,  which  Dr.  Talmage  himself  was 
wont  to  tell,  of  his  abandonment  of  the  tobacco  habit.  A  personal 
friend  promised  that  if  the  doctor  would  stay  in  Philadelphia  he 
would  see  that  he  had  all  the  cigars,  and  of  the  finest  quality  pro- 
curable, that  he  could  smoke.  The  doctor  reasoned  over  the  offer, 
and,  although  he  did  not  accept  it,  found  that  the  cigars  were  more 
than  an  ordinary  inducement.  '  So  when  I  discovered  that  I  had  got 
to  a  point  where  tobacco  was  a  material  disideratum  in  my  existence,' 
he  said,  1 1  knew  it  was  time  to  stop  and  I  stopped.' 

"The  Central  Church  of  Brooklyn,  when  Dr.  Talmage  first 
came  to  it,  consisted  of  nineteen  members.  The  attendance  averaged 
about  thirty-five.  The  second  Sunday  after  his  arrival  showed  an 
increase.  Congregations  grew  so  fast  that  after  fifteen  months  he 
persuaded  the  trustees  to  tear  down  the  old  church  and  build  a  new 
one,  accommodating  3000  persons,  to  be  called  '  The  Tabernacle.' 
Dr.  Talmage  offered  to  give  up  his  salary  of  $7000  a  year  until  the 
new  plan  proved  a  success. 

"In  1870,  while  this  was  in  process  of  building,  Dr.  Talmage 
made  a  tour  of  Europe,  principally  of  the  British  Isles.  In  1 872 
the  Tabernacle  was  destroyed  by  fire. 

u  Well  ! "  said  Dr.  Talmage,  reassuringly,  when  apprised  of  the 
disaster,  '  it  never  was  large  enough,  anyhow— '  and  preached  to 
mammoth  audiences  in  the  Academy  of  Music  while  a  new  church, 
the  largest  Protestant  edifice  in  America,  was  being  built,  with  seating 
capacity  for  5000  persons  and  standing  capacity  for  an  additional 
thousand." 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE.  43 

In  1889  this  new  church  also  caught  fire  and  was  destroyed  and 
Dr.  Talmage  immediately  issued  an  appeal  to  all  the  churches  to 
subscribe  $100,000  additional  to  the  $129,500  for  which  the  building 
was  insured,  for  the  creation  of  yet  a  third  Tabernacle.  This  was 
completed  in  1891,  and  until  it  was  ready  for  occupancy  Dr.  Talmage 
divided  his  Sundays  between  the  Academy  of  Music  of  Brooklyn  and 
that  of  New  York. 

The  third  Tabernacle  was  burned  on  Sunday,  May  13,  1894, 
after  Dr.  Talmage  had  preached  his  farewell  sermon.  He  had 
celebrated  his  silver  jubilee  in  the  church  a  few  days  before  and 
was  about  to  resign. 

After  a  trip  to  Honolulu,  he  did  resign  on  November  9,  1894, 
and  then  preached  at  various  places  until  he  accepted  a  call  to  the 
pastorate  of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  in  Washington,  on  Sep- 
tember 26,  1895.  He  went  abroad  in  1900  and  travelled  extensively 
in  Europe. 

He  utilized  the  public  press,  as  a  disseminating  medium  for  his 
teachings,  to  a  degree  unattempted  by  any  other  preacher.  His 
Sunday  sermons  were  for  over  thirty  years  published  in  more  than 
Lwo  thousand  newspapers,  which,  counting  five  readers  to  an  issue, 
aggregated  an  immense  audience  weekly.  He  also  edited  suc- 
cessively the  "Christian  at  Work,"  "Advance,"  "Frank  Leslie's 
Sunday  Magazine,"  and  the  "Christian  Herald,"  retaining  charge 
of  the  last  named  up  until  the  time  of  his  death.  He  was  also 
constantly  upon  the  lecture  platform,  and  some  idea  of  his  drawing 
capacity  as  a  speaker  as  well  as  of  the  financial  independence  his 
gifts  brought  him  may  be  gained  from  'the  fact  that  he  was  once 
offered  and  refused  $50,000  for  a  series  of  lectures  whose  dates, 
locality  and  subjects  should  be  his  own  choice. 

In  1892  he  accompanied  the  famine  relief  ship  "Leo"  into 
Russia,  meeting  the  Czar  and  Czarina  while  there. 

Dr.  Talmage  died  at  his  residence  in  Washington,  April  12, 
1902,  at  9  P.  M.  It  had  been  evident  for  several  days  that  there 
was  no  hope  of  recovery  and  the  attending  physicians  so  informed 
the  family.  The  patient  gradually  grew  weaker,  until  life  passed 
away  so  quietly  that  even  the  members  of  the  family,  all  of  whom 
were  watching  at  the  bedside,  hardly  knew  that  he  had  gone.  The 
immediate  cause  of  death  was  inflammation  of  the  brain.  Dr.  Tal- 


44  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

mage  was  in  poor  health  when  he  started  away  from  Washington 
for  Mexico  for  a  vacation  and  rest  in  February.  He  was  then 
suffering  from  influenza  and  serious  catarrhal  conditions.  After 
his  return  to  Washington  he'  was  quite  ill.  Until  Thursday, 
April  loth,  however,  fears  of  his  death  were  not  entertained. 

The  last  rational  words  uttered  by  Dr.  Talmage  were  on  the 
] day  preceding  the  marriage  of  his  daughter,  when  he  said: — "Of 
course  I  know  you,  Maud."  After  that  he  became  unconscious 
and  had  no  lucid  intervals.  At  Dr.  Talmage' s  bedside,  besides  his 
wife,  were  these  members  of  his  family : — The  Rev.  Frank  DeWitt 
Talmage,  of  Chicago ;  Mrs.  Warren  G.  Smith  and  Mrs.  Daniel 
Man  gam,  of  Brooklyn  ;  Mrs.  Allen  E.  Donnau,  of  Richmond,  and 
Mrs.  Clarence  Wycoff  and  Miss  Talmage,  of  Washington. 

On  Snnday,  the  day  following  Dr.  Talmage' s  death,  a  request 
was  sent  to  his  family  from  the  Consistory  of  the  First  Reformed 
Dutch  Church  of  Brooklyn,  that  the  eminent  preacher  be  buried 
from  the  "City  of  Churches,"  in  the  religious  life  of  which  he  was 
for  years  so  prominent  a  figure.  W.  A.  Hall,  superintendent  of  the 
Sunday  School  of  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church,  which  is  at  Seventh 
avenue  and  Carroll  street,  received  an  answer  to  this  request  in  the 
following  telegram  : — 

"Telegram  received.     Sympathy    much    appreciated.       Have 
decided  to  have  but  one  service  at  Washington. 

FRANK  D.  TALMAGE." 

After  the  evening  services,  Mr.  Hall  told  the  members  of  the 
Consistory  of  the  decision' of  the  Talmage  family  and  much  disap- 
pointment was  expressed.  The  general  opinion  prevailed  that  as 
Dr.  Talmage  had  been  so  eminent  a  figure  in  Brooklyn  church  life 
the  funeral  services  should  be  held  from  that  city. 
\  Many  other  churches  in  Brooklyn  took  action  and  expressed 
sorrow  over  the  death  of  Dr.  Talmage.  Among  them  was  the  Central 
Presbyterian  Church,  at  Jefferson  and  Marcy  avenues,  the  Rev.  J. 
F.  Carson,  pastor.  After  the  morning  service  Dr.  Carson  spoke  on 
the  long  and  successful  ministry  of  Dr.  Talmage  in  Brooklyn,  and 
he  was  followed  by  several  of  the  officers  of  the  church.  James  J. 
Matchett,  a  trustee  of  the  church,  who  had  been  for  years  a  close 
personal  friend  of  Dr.  Talmage,  told  of  his  life  there  as  a  preacher. 


7 


in  ri\AOL.     lit   l3RJ>.i?UIlG0D 

1\W  °UR  CE.LE5TIAL  KING  : 


|    7\CL  CL0!^    BL  m 


I 

- 

}? 

ft 

« 


n°5T    D° 


T    C* 

.  v^ui  AY  5L   1°  v,i°D 

HAT  JITTEffl  ,5Tlll  ' 


. 

J°YFUL 


DWIGHT     L.     MOODY 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE.  45 

A.  W.  Kendrick,  for  seventeen  years  a  trustee  of  Dr.  Talmage's 
Tabernacle,  paid  a  glowing  tribute,  and  then  the  following  resolu- 
tions, offered  by  Mr.  Matchett,  were  unanimously  adopted  by  the 
church : 

"  Resolved,  That  we,  the  members  of  the  Central  Presbyterian 
Church,  express  our  profound  sense  of  loss  at  the  death  of  the  Rev. 
Dr.  T.  DeWitt  Talmage.  We  sorrow,  but  we  do  not  mourn  ;  and 
we  express  a  tribute  to  his  memory,  character  and  life  work.  A 
prince  and  a  great  man  has  fallen  at  his  work.  He  was  one  of  the 
strongest  preachers  in  America,  and  while  Brooklyn  was  for  thirty- 
five  years  the  scene  of  his  ministrations,  the  world  was  his  audience. 
His  aim  was  to  win  men  Godward.  He  stood  four-square  against 
all  winds  of  adverse  doctrine. 

"  We  extend  to  his  family  the  assurance  of  our  sincere  sym- 
pathy and  affectionate  remembrance  in  this  their  time  of  sorrow." 

Many  were  the  expressions  of  sorrow  heard  from  Brooklyn 
churchmen  over  the  loss  of  Dr.  Talmage.  Leonard  Moody,  who  was 
for  thirty-two  years  a  member  of  the  Talmage  church,  and  who  up 
to  the  time  of  his  death  was  intimate  with  Dr.  Talmage  both  socially 
and  in  a  business  way,  was  overcome  at  the  news  of  his  friend's 
death.  When  seen  at  his  home  he  said : 

"  No  death  has  ever  affected  me  as  has  that  of  Dr.  Talmage. 
We  have  lost  one  of  the  greatest  preachers  that  Brooklyn  ever 
knew.  Dr.  Talmage  was  a  man  whose  sermons  reached  a  larger 
number  of  people  than  any  other  pulpiteer  in  the  last  half  century. 
He  reached  more  people  than  did  Beecher.  He  was  one  of  the  most 
genial  men  in  social  life  that  I  have  ever  known." 

W.  A.  Hall  was  a  trustee  of  Dr.  Talmage's  Schermerhorn  Street 
Tabernacle,  before  that  building  was  destroyed  by  fire.  "I  had 
known  Dr.  Tslmage  for  thirty-five  years,"  said  he,  "  and  I  look  back 
to  my  early  life  in  his  church  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure.  He 
was  the  only  man  in  this  country  who  never  copied  anybody  else 
in  his  preaching.  He  was  originality  itself.  The  great  church- 
going  populace  of  this  cosmopolitan  city  would  flock  to  hear  Beecher 
in  the  morning  and  Talmage  in  the  evening.  Mr.  Talmage  looked 
Apon  the  bright  side  of  everything  and  never  had  the  blues.  I  saw 
him  downcast  only  when  his  son,  DeWitt,  a  promising  young  law- 
yer, died.  He  drew  the  multitude  to  his  church,  and  the  sermons 


46  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

that  lie  preached  clung  to  those  who  heard  him   and  made  a  deep 
impression." 

One  of  onr  prominent  journals  paid  the  following  appreciative 
tribute  to  Dr.  Talmage's  genius  and  achievements. 

"  Death  found  him  still  a  unique  figure  in  pulpit  and  on 
platform,  still  an  influence  if  not  a  force  in  the  communion  in  whose 
long  service  all  his  gifts  of  picturesque  expression  had  found  their 
full  opportunity.  Successful  beyond  the  average,  one  of  the  most 
popular  preachers  of  his  generation,  Dr.  Talmage's  career,  with  its 
rewards,  represented  the  effect  of  the  winged  word  delivered  in 
season.  And  with  him  all  occasions  were  seasonable.  Few  men 
knew  better  than  the  dead  divine  how  to  voice  in  vivid  rhetoric  the 
vague  yearnings  of  those  to  whom  he  ministered  the  gospel  of  hope. 
And  it  was  his  intense  presentation  of  the  accepted  truth,  his 
burning  conviction  as  to  the  efficacy  of  what  he  preached,  that  gave 
the  Brooklyn  pastor  first  a  congregation  that  defied  the  capacity  of 
the  church  edifice  and  later  an  audience,  through  the  public  prints, 
in  addition  to  his  Sunday  congregations,  that  carried  his  message 
into  all  parts  of  the  land.  There  was  no  mistaking  the  vital  interest 
in  what  he  had  to  say,  and  Dr.  Talmage  never  mistook  the  attitude 
of  his  followers  nor  failed  to  give  them  the  spiritual  unction  that 
their  situation  and  souls  demanded. 

"  Written  to  strike  home,  his  sermons  read  well,  the  sentences 
moved  in  rapid  phalanx  to  a  splendid  conclusion,  and  at  the  height 
of  his  powers  as  a  public  speaker  they  sounded  better  than  they 
read.  His  eloquence  swept  his  hearers  and  himself  into  those 
heavens  of  ecstacy  in  which  he  and  they  enjoyed  for  the  moment  on 
this  mundane  sphere  the  anticipatory  joys  of  a  glorified  hereafter. 
That  he  thus  sustained  and  soothed  thousands,  made  life  more 
hopeful  and  gave  no  quarter  to  unbelief  was  his  mission,  and  how 
well  he  fulfilled  it,  according  to  his  light,  is  known  to  all." 

The  highest  and  most  beautiful  tributes  that  can  be  paid  to 
man  were  spoken  over  the  bier  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Talmage  by  some  of 
America's  most  eloquent  and  noted  ministers  of  God.  Simplicity 
marked  the  entire  service,  which  was  held  in  the  Church  of  the  Cove- 
nant, Washington,  D.  C.,  at  5  o'clock  on  Tuesday,  April  i5th,  1902. 
The  solemn  magnificence  of  the  simple  floral  tributes  and  eulogies 
only  added  to  the  deep  reverence  of  the  occasion. 


LIFE   OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE.  47 

The  great  church  was  crowded  from  wall  to  wall  with  people  of 
all  denominations  and  representing  all  walks  in  life.  Rich  sat  be- 
side the  poor  and  paid  respect  to  the  memory  of  the  great  divine, 
who  had  u  dared  to  be  singular  that  he  might  turn  the  attention  of 
men  to  God."  Even  in  the  vestibules  the  crowds  were  gathered, 
striving  to  hear  the  splendid  words  of  praise  and  eulogy  that  flowed 
from  the  lips  of  men  who  had  been  the  colleagues,  and,  some  of  them, 
the  almost  lifelong  friends  of  Dr.  Talmage. 

In  front  of  the  house  of  worship,  and  almost  blocking  the  side- 
walks, stood  hundreds  of  persons  who  had  not  been  able  to  crowd 
into  the  church,  and  who  were  waiting  to  fall  into  line  to  view  the 
remains  at  the  close  of  the  service.  A  score  or  more  of  policemen 
were  required  to  maintain  a  passageway  through  the  crowd.  The 
altar  was  banked  high  with  magnificent  tributes,  the  tokens  of  sym- 
pathy and  respect  from  persons  in  all  walks  of  life,  who  had  united 
in  that  hour  of  bereavement  to  express  their  love  and  appreciation 
for  the  noble  dead. 

Directly  below  and  in  front  of  the  pulpit  was  placed  the  hand- 
some black  cloth  casket,  of  simple  design,  which  contained  all  that 
was  mortal  of  the  magnificent  pillar  of  the  Christian  Church.  Com- 
pletely covering  the  top  of  the  casket  to  a  depth  of  about  eight 
inches  was  a  solid  mass  of  violets. 

The  funeral  services  were  impressive  in  every  detail,  from  the 
singing  of  the  grand  old  hymns  by  the  church  choir  to  the  magnifi- 
cent eulogies  of  the  noted  clergymen. 

Rev.  Dr.  Tennis  S.  Hamlin,  pastor  of  the  church,  officiated. 
He  was  assisted  by  the  Rev.  Thomas  Chalmers  Hasten,  pastor  of 
the  Eastern  Presbyterian  Church,  of  this  city,  an  almost  lifelong 
associate  of  Dr.  Talmage  ;  Rev.  J.  S.  T.  Niccols,  of  St.  Louis ;  Rev. 
Dr.  Howard  Suydam,  of  Rhinebeck,  N.  Y. ;  Rev.  Dr.  Van  Dyke,  of 
Princeton,  N.  J. ;  Rev.  James  Demarest,  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  and 
the  Rev.  D.  E.  P.  Terhune. 

Dr.  Hamlin  beautifully  portrayed  the  life  of  Dr.  Talmage,  and 
the  wonderful  work  he  accomplished  among  men  for  the  upbuilding 
of  the  kingdom  of  God.  He  characterized  him  as  one  of  the  world's 
greatest  factors  for  good,  declaring  that  everywhere  the  English 
language  was  spoken  his  sermons  were  read  with  eagerness  and 
delight. 


48  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

Rev.  Dr.  Van  Dyke  then  delivered  a  striking  eulogy  of  the 
dead  minister.  He  said  :  "  The  world-wide  reputation  of  Dr.  Tal- 
mage  will  no  longer  have  its  expression  in  present  achievements, 
but  his  memory  will  still  live.  He  has  sometimes  in  his  career 
been  criticised  because  he  was  sensational.  But  he  had  to  be  sen- 
sational to  hold  the  attention  to  the  Word  of  God  of  thousands  of 
people  who  would  otherwise  not  have  listened  to  it.  His  later  life 
was  merely  the  unfolding  of  the  sterling  qualities  he  had  so  often 
shown  in  his  younger  days.  He  was  never  spoiled  by  the  great 
reputation  he  had  won.  He  was  a  man  thoroughly  consecrated  to 
his  work.  His  one  great  aim  was  to  serve  the  God  whose  Word  he 
preached.  His  aim  was  to  advance  the  kingdom  of  God. 

"  A  great  man  has  fallen.  We  mourn  for  him.  Who  will  take 
his  place  ?  Yet  death  has  gained  a  barren  victory  over  this  mag- 
nificent minister  of  God.  We  thought  he  had  many  years  before 
him,  but,  alas,  he  was  stricken  before  the  slightest  signs  of  decay 
were  manifested  in  his  wonderful  powers.  But  he  has  gone  to  a 
nobler  and  greater  life — a  life  which  he  ever  held  up  as  a  prize 
invaluable  before  the  eyes  of  men.  For  him  to  die  was  Christ.  A 
crown  of  great  glory  has  been  placed  upon  his  brow." 

Dr.  James  Demarest,  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  a  lifelong  friend  and 
schoolmate  of  Dr.  Talmage,  said  : 

"  Has  his  great  heart  really  ceased  to  beat  ?  Has  his  expres- 
sive face  really  become  immobile  ?  Have  those  strong  fingers 
become  lax  and  lifeless  ?  It  seems  impossible,  yet  it  is  true.  When 
this  enormous  fact  dawns  on  the  mind,  it  causes  a  great  surging  of 
thought,  which  is  followed  by  intense  sorrow ;  a  sorrow  deep  and 
heartfelt  for  the  great  void  which  has  been  created.  Think  how 
wide  is  that  void  !  Think,  that  the  wonderful  sermons,  which  used 
to  go  into  every  home,  to  bring  comfort  and  happiness  and  relief  to 
the  aching  and  sorrowing  hearts,  will  never  be  known  again  ;  but, 
remember,  that  although  Dr.  Talmage  is  gone,  his  influence  remains, 
Still  we  have  the  memory  of  him,  and  the  knowledge  that  he  once 
lived,  and  these  are  thoughts  which  will  never  perish. 

"  I  knew  Dr.  Talmage  intimately,  and  feel  that  I  understood 
his  character  as  perhaps  few  people  did.  From  his  earliest  life  I 
positively  know  that  he  worked  with  one  aim,  one  controlling  influ- 
ence before  him.  That  influence  was  his  sincerity  in  preaching  the 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE.  49 

Gospel  as  he  believed  God  intended  it  should  be  preached.  Any 
criticisms  which  may  have  been  heaped  upon  him  were  unjust, 
because  throughout  his  life  he  was  sincere  and  honest  in  his  convic- 
tions. He  served  God  as  he  believed  God  intended  he  should 
serve." 

The  most  touching  and  powerful  eulogy  of  the  service  was 
made  by  the  Rev.  Thomas  Chalmers  Easton.  He  told  simply  of 
the  great  man  of  God  as  he  had  seen  and  known  him  intimately 
during  the  better  part  of  his  life.  He  said: 

"  Not  until  we  compress  the  ocean  into  a  dew  drop  will  it  be 
possible  for  us  to  condense  all  that  is  due  this  great  dead  minister 
into  one  brief  hour's  telling.  While  great  men  are  with  us  to  lead 
our  armies,  manage  the  affairs  of  State,  and  charm  us  with  the  magic 
power  of  their  pens  we  are  apt  to  lose  sight  of  the  men  themselves. 
But  when  death  comes — what  a  revelation  1  Then  we  see  them  in 
their  proper  light  and  come  to  weigh  their  worth  and  our  own  need 
of  them. 

"How  solemn  and  great  was  the  shock  that  thrilled  through 
the  whole  of  America  and  Europe  last  Saturday  night  when  the 
telegraphic  wires  sounded  out  the  astounding  message  :  '  Talmage 
is  dead.' 

"  We  only  knew  that  he  was  sick  a  few  weeks.  We  were  wont 
to  look  upon  him  as  a  tall,  giant  oak,  one  of  the  most  magnificent 
specimens  of  his  kind.  He  was  one  of  the  most  striking  characters 
of  the  century.  His  inmost  acts  could  be  examined  without  causing 
the  slightest  blush.  No  name  that  appears  on  the  page  of  history 
contains  so  much  human  sweetness  as  that  of  Dr.  Talmage.  In  the 
hospital,  in  the  humblest  home,  on  the  battlefield,  my  friend  was 
known  as  one  of  the  foremost  comforters  of  men  by  his  matchless 
genius  and  application  of  the  power  of  God.  Only  once  did  I  ever 
see  him  burst  forth  into  a  white  heat  of  rage,  and  that  was  when  he 
had  been  persecuted  most  unjustly,  and  dishonorably  month  after 
month  and  the  work  of  his  Master  assailed. 

"He  was  great  in  his  spirit  of  philanthropy.  He  gave  largely, 
but  he  gave  silently.  He  gave  thousands  and  thousands,  but  no 
name  was  attached.  He  was  sometimes  criticised  for  not  being  more 
liberal.  But  his  accusers  were  without  a  knowledge  of  his  work. 
He  performed  his  duty  as  God  showed  him  the  way,  silently.  It 


50  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  D*.  WIT7  TALMAGE. 

took  the  man  nearly  seventy  years  to  live,  but  only  a  few  hours 
to  die. 

"The  three  greatest  preachers  of  the  century  were  Beecher, 
Spurgeon,  and  Talrnage.  But  the  prince  of  pulpit  workers  for  the 
glory  of  God  was  Talinage.  He  excelled  in  the  power  to  reach  out 
and  hold  the  great  masses  for  Christ.  Heaven  has  seen  some 
jmighty  days,  but  the  day  this  great  God-like  giant  went  home  to  a 
well-earned  rest  was  one  of  its  greatest  days.  As  I  knelt  by  the 
bedside  of  my  dying  comrade,  I  seemed  to  hear  the  angels  shouting : 
'Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful  servant;  well  done.' 

"When  a  foreign  nation  suffered  for  want  of  bread,  his  powerful 
appeals  enabled  a  response  to  be  given  that  saved  millions  on 
millions  of  human  lives.  India,  part  of  England's  empire,  will 
never  forget  America's  philanthropic  Talmage.  Russia  acknowl- 
edged its  everlasting  debt  to  him  also  for  aid  in  a  crucial  period, 
and  in  the  palace  of  the  Czar  he  was  welcomed  as  a  brother  beloved. 
Greece,  by  its  royal  sovereign,  paid  homage  to  his  greatness,  and  in 
the  throne  chamber  of  the  Queen  he  received  her  expressed  admira- 
tion of  his  genius,  fervor,  and  power  as  the  greatest  living  preacher 
of  the  age." 

Following  Dr.  Hasten  was  Dr.  S.  J.  Nichols,  of  Brooklyn.  Dr. 
Nichols  knew  Dr.  Talmage  nearly  all  his  life,  and  from  almost  boy- 
hood had  been  his  warm  personal  friend.  His  address  was  as  follows  : 

"  Wherever  English  is  spoken  or  read,  there  have  gone  Dr. 
Talmage's  sermons.  Messages  of  comfort,  love,  and  relief  have 
gone  from  him  to  tens  of  thousands  of  homes,  and  have  become 
household  words.  And  these  homes  I  speak  of  are  as  great  in 
variety  as  were  the  oratorical  powers  of  the  beloved  minister.  Every 
one  read  his  sermons.  In  the  railroad  shops  of  Pennsylvania 
they  were  pored  over  during  the  noon  hour.  In  the  hovel  of  the 
i  poor  and  in  the  mansion  of  the  rich,  Dr.  Talmage's  sermons  were 
eagerly  sought  every  week,  and  it  is  in  these  places,  as  well  as  here, 
in  this  beautiful  church,  that  his  death  is  keenly  regretted,  and  that 
heartfelt  sorrow  is  demonstrated. 

"Whatever  criticism  there  was  of  Dr.  Talmage,  it  must  never  be 
forgotten  that  he  preached  the  gospel,  not  the  philosophies,  the  ideas, 
the  thoughts,  or  the  whims  of  men.  He  spoke  with  conviction,  and 
preached  the  gospel  of  love,  hope,  and  kindness  to  lost  men." 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  T ATM  AGE.  51 

At  the  conclusion  of  Dr.  Nichols'  address,  the  choir  sang  "  It 
Is  Well  With  My  Soul."  Dr.  Hamlin  offered  a  fervent  prayer,  after 
which  the  family  and  pallbearers  passed  out  of  the  rear  door  of  the 
building,  the  others  present  remaining  seated.  The  organist  closed 
the  services  by  playing  Chopin's  "  Funeral  March." 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  services,  which  lasted  more  than  an 
hour,  those  present  who  desired  to  take  the  last  look  at  the  dead 
preacher  were  invited  forward.  Dr.  Hamlin  was  surprised  to  learn 
that  a  great  crowd  still  lingered  without,  expecting  to  enter  the 
church  and  look  again  on  the  face  of  the  great  preacher  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  services.  As  soon  as  those  who  had  been  in  the 
church  viewed  the  body,  the  door  was  opened  and  others  were  per- 
mitted to  enter.  The  body  remained  at  the  church  until  10  o'clock, 
where  it  was  viewed  by  thousands  of  people  during  the  evening. 
At  10  o'clock  it  was  taken  to  the  Pennsylvania  station,  to  be  con- 
veyed to  Brooklyn  for  interment  in  Greenwood  Cemetery. 

Among  those  accompanying  the  body  were  Mrs.  Talmage, 
Rev.  Dr.  Frank  Talmage,  son  of  the  deceased ;  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Clarence  F.  Wykoff,  Miss  Collier,  and  close  personal  friends  of  Dr. 
Frank  Talmage,  from  New  York. 

The  honorary  pallbearers  in  Washington  were  Senator 
Jonathan  P.  Dolliver,  Senator  Julius  Caesar  Burrows,  Senator  Shelby 
Moore  Cullom,  Gen.  John  W.  Foster,  Hon.  Alden  Smith,  Hon.  John 
Marshall  Harlan,  Associate  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court ;  Hon. 
David  J.  Brewer,  Associate  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court ;  Mr.  B. 
H.  Warner,  Dr.  Louis  Klopsch,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bittinger,  Dr.  G.  Lloyd 
Magruder,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Fiske,  Mr.  E.  M.  Branch,  and  Mr.  F.  M. 
Lawrence. 

Dr.  Talmage  was  a  member  of  the  Society  of  the  Sons  of  the 
American  Revolution,  and  the  following  members  attended  the 
services  at  the  Church  of  the  Covenant :  Hon.  Cornelius  A.  Pugsley, 
treasurer  general,  national  society,  Sons  of  American  Revolution  ; 
Maj.  Gen.  J.  C.  Breckinridge,  ex-president  general,  national  society, 
Sons  of  American  Revolution ;  Surgeon  General  George  M.  Stern- 
berg,  U-  S.  A.  ;  Brig.  Gen.  Thomas  M.  Vincent,  U.  S.  A. ;  Admiral 
James  A.  Greer,  U.  S.  N.  ;  Capt.  T.  F.  Sewell,  U.  S.  N.  ;  Noble  D. 
Larner,  Dr.  Joseph  Taber  Johnson,  William  J.  Rhees,  Col.  Felix  A. 
Rowe,  Harry  C.  McLean,  Henry  W.  Samson. 


52  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

One  of  our  religious  journals  furnishes  an  estimate  of  Dr.  Tal- 
mage  and  his  great  work  as  follows : 

"After  preaching  a  number  of  years  in  Philadelphia  Dr.  Talmage 
accepted  a  call  to  the  Central  Presbyterian  Church  in  Brooklyn. 
At  that  time  the  writer  hereof  lived  in  that  city.  The  pulpit 
of  this  church  had  been  for  a  long  time  filled  by  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Rockwell,  a  distinguished  and  able  man,  but  it  was  located  where 
the  people  were  constantly  moving.  He  told  the  writer  that  three 
different  congregations  had  come  and  gone  during  his  pastorate. 
The  doctor  was  advanced  in  years,  and  the  congregation  very  small 
when  he  resigned  ;  and  when  Dr.  Talmage  began  Mr.  Beecher  was 
in  the  zenith  of  his  fame.  Not  far  away  was  a  preacher  who  after- 
ward became  quite  famous,  who  also  had  his  eccentricities,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Bartlett,  late  .of  Washington  city.  And  Dr.  Cuyler  had  risen 
to  the  height  of  his  so  long  maintained  fame  as  a  genuine  evangel- 
ical clergyman  and  pastor  of  the  new  Lafayette  Avenue  Presbyte- 
rian Church. 

"Instantly  the  crowds  began  to  gather.  t  Many  at  first  went  for 
the  sport  of  it.  When  Dr.  Talmage' s  name  was  in  every  mouth  a 
short  time  afterward,  the  writer  went  to  hear  him,  and  was 
impressed,  and  astonished.  Dining  on  that  Sunday  at  the  residence 
of  Mr.  James  H.  Taft,  with  the  late  Dr.  Robert  M.  Hatfield,  Mr. 
Taft's  brother-in-law,  and  with  William  H.  Fenn,  a  distinguished 
Congregational  minister  of  Portland,  we  gave  a  truthful  account  of 
the  sermon. 

"The  host  and  his  guests  were  wholly  unable  to  believe  the 
representation.  As  it  became  a  question  of  our  maintaining  a 
reputation  for  veracity,  we  invited  them  to  accompany  us  in  the 
evening,  and  if  what  occurred  did  not  sustain  our  statement  we 
would  withdraw  all  claims  upon  them  to  believe  us  both  sane  and 
truthful.  They  consented.  A  literal  description  of  what  we 
heard,  without  extravagance  in  any  degree,  would  be  deemed 
incredible.  It  was  upon  Rizpah,  and  the  title  was,  'Death  in  the 
Harvest  Field.'  One  passage  was  as  follows:  'Death  is  always  awful. 
The  death  of  one  son  is  a  terrible  thing.  But  there  she  was  looking 
at  her  seven  sons  hanging  between  heaven  and  earth,' and  then, 
marching  about  the  platform  counting,  the  orator  exclaimed  ;  '  One, 
two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven  sons ! '  and  made  the  scene  so  realistic 


REV.    T.    DE  WITT    TALMAGE 


THE   EXECUTION    OF    ATHALTAH. 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE.  53 

that  many  acted  as  though  they  saw  them  there.  Repeating  as  he 
went,  '  And  they — fell — all  seven  together,  and  were  pnt  to  death  in 
—the  days — of  harvest,  in  the  first  days,  in  the  beginning  of  barley 
harvest.  And  Rizpath,  the  daughter  of  Aiah,  took  sackcloth  and 
spread  it  for  her  upon  the  rock,  from  the  beginning  of  harvest  until 
water  dropped  upon  them  out  of  heaven,  and  suffered — neither — the 
birds  of  the  air  to  rest  on  them  by  day — nor  the  beasts  of  the  field 
—by  night'  That  was  only  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  discourse. 

"  How  Dr.  Talrnage  crowded  that  large  church,  how  a  great 
tabernacle  was  built  and  that  old  church  edifice  could  hardly  hold 
the  Sunday  school,  how  this  tabernacle,  made  of  corrugated  iron 
and  rushed  to  completion,  was  opened  only  three  months  after  it 
was  begun,  and  how  hundreds  and  even  thousands  of  people  were 
turned  away  every  Sunday,  is  an  old  story. 

"While  Dr.  Talmage  was  preaching  in  the  Schermerhorn 
Street  Church  he  conducted  a  lay  college.  Neighboring  ministers, 
among  them  the  writer,  delivered  lectures  in  that  institution  and 
made  the  acquaintance  of  a  number  of  his  students,  some  of  whom 
became  almost  as  famous  as  himself — among  them  Thomas  Harrison, 
who  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  was  known  as  the  '  Boy  Preacher.' 

"Some  remarkable  circumstances  attended  the  financial  affairs 
of  the  three  tabernacles.  The  contractor  who  was  connected  with 
the  last  one  is  said  to  have  suffered  greatly.  A  settlement  was 
made,  and  all  the  stops  of  the  organ  were  brought  out  to  sustain 
the  hallelujahs  inspired  by  the  graphic  way  in  which  Dr.  Talmage 
declared  the  church  free  from  debt. 

"As  a  religious  journalist,  connected  with  a  publisher  of 
intense  energy  and  a  genius  for  every  form  of  profitable  expedient, 
Dr.  Talmage  became  still  more  widely  known.  His  printed  ser- 
mons also  were  in  great  demand.  No  person  except  Charles  H. 
Spurgeon  has  ever  lived  whose  sermons  were  more  widely  circulated. 
Hundreds  of  newspapers  in  this  country  regularly  published  his 
discourses.  He  received  a  certain  royalty  upon  them.  The  sermon 
that  he  preached  on  any  Sabbath  was  not  the  one  prepared  the  pre- 
ceding week.  He  was  obliged  to  complete  the  text  of  his  discourses 
in  advance  that  they  might  be  stereotyped  and  sent  out  in  time  to 
appear  as  though  they  were  preached  less  than  twenty-four  hours 
before. 


54  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

"  Talmage' s  memory  was  prodigious  ;  his  imagination  marvel- 
ous ;  his  power  of  language  such  as  to  justify  without  any  qualifi- 
cation the  allegation  that  he  was  a  genius.  He  composed  his  dis- 
courses a^  he  walked  his  room,  declaiming-  them  to  his  stenographer, 
sometimes  with  almost  the  vehemence  of  public  speech.  One  of  his 
stenographers  informed  us  that  when  he  assisted  him,  Dr.  Tal- 
mage's habit  while  dictating,  if  he  thought  of  anything  in  any  par- 
ticular book,  was  to  drag  the  book  suddenly  from  the  shelf,  dictate  i 
from  it  what  he  wished,  in  his  own  language  to  embody  the  fact  or 
historical  statement,  and  immediately  to  tear  out  of  the  book  the 
page,  his  object  being  to  make  it  certain  that  if  he  ever  had  that 
thought  again  and  went  to  the  book  to  get  it  he  would  discover  that 
a  leaf  was  torn  out,  and  therefore  would  not  repeat  himself. 

"To  prepare  these  sermons  and  then  return  to  the  sermon 
which  was  sent  out  ard  deliver  it  so  as  to  agree  with  the  report  was 
an  extraordinary  feat.  He  would,  however,  sometimes  depart  from 
what  he  had  prepared.  Dr.  S.  L.  Baldwin  and  Dr.  Talmage  werr 
born  near  each  other  and  were  friends  from  boyhood.  Once  when 
Dr.  Baldwin  returned  to  this  country  from  China  he  went  in  to  hear 
his  old  friend.  His  text  was,  *  Hath  the  rain  a  father  ?  '  Catching 
a  glimpse  of  Dr.  Baldwin  in  the  congregation,  without  any  connectiot 
tion  whatever  with  theirest  of  the  sermon  Dr.  Talmage  exclaimed, ( Ha 
the  rain  a  father  ?  I  had  a  boyhood  friend  who  gave  himself  to  the 
missionary  cause  ;  he  went  across  the  stormy  sea,  a  voyage  of  one 
hundred  days  or  more,  to  China,  about  the  time  I  entered  the  min- 
istry, and  GOD  protected  him,  and  He  has  brought  him  back,  and 
he  is  in  this  congregation.'  And  then  raising  his  head  toward 
heaven  and  stretching  out  his  hand,  he  exclaimed  in  his  deepest  and 
heaviest  tones,  '  Has — the — rain — a — father  ?  ' 

"  Whoever  intimates  that  Dr.  Talmage  was  not  a  man  of 
^ordinary  ability,  is,  in  our  judgment,  incompetent  of  deciding  such 
a  question.  Had  he  become  a  jury  lawyer  he  would  have  made  a 
transcendent  success.  He  was  witty,  humorous,  and  could  be  path- 
etic. It  was  stated  some  years  ago  by  a  newspaper  critic  that  Tal- 
mage had  (  every  qualification  but  pathos.'  He  had  never  heard  him. 
His  friends  induced  him  to  go,  and  he  wept  like  a  child  at  one  of  the 
simple,  homely  stories  which  Dr.  Talmage  told  of  home  life,  and 
the  tribute  he  paid  to  the  value  of  the  mother  to  family  life. 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE.  „ 

"  The  reports  of  his  sermons  were  better  than  the  delivery  of 
them.  Some  of  them  were  almost  perfect  pieces  of  composition, 
and  might  have  been  introduced  into  Bunyan's  '  Pilgrim's  Progress' 
without  deteriorating  the  style  of  that  extraordinary  book.  Some 
of  his  occasional  addresses  are  worthy  of  preservation.  Ministers 
sometimes  plagiarized  Dr.  Talmage's  sermons,  but  no  one,  so  far  as 
we  know,  ever  accused  him  of  doing  anything  of  that  kind,  except 
when  he  had  repeated  one  of  his  own.  One  memorial  sermon  which 
he  preached  in  Washington  was  preached  the  same  day  by  a  Presby- 
terian minister  in  Reading,  Pa.  The  reports  of  them  appeared  the 
same  day.  Dr.  Talmage  had  preached  it  before,  and  thought  he  had 
a  right  to  repeat  it.  Later  he  made  a  public  statement  that  '  being 
unwell  he  preached  an  old  sermon,  and  within  a  few  days  there 
came  to  him  letters  from  various  quarters — a  dozen  in  all — accusing 
him  of  having  cribbed  the  discourse,  on  the  ground  that  the  writers 
had  heard  it  delivered  in  their  own  towns  within  a  few  months  past 
by  their  own  pastors.' 

"  Dr.  Talmage's  peculiar  career  as  a  lecturer  in  England  elicited 
much  discussion  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  The  crowds  that 
tried  to  hear  him  when  he  first  began  had  never  been  equaled. 
Even  the  Prince  of  Wales  in  his  tour  through  the  country  hardly 
attracted  more  people.  Congregations  would  assemble  an  hour  or 
two  before  the  time. 

"  A  good  speecimen  of  his  graphic  style  of  composition   is  this  : 

"  '  If  Infidelity  and  atheism  succeed  they  will  dynamite  the 
world.  Let  them  have  their  way,  and  the  world  will  be  a  house  with 
just  three  rooms — one  a  madhouse,  another  a  lazaretto,  and  the  other 
a  pandemonium.  In  the  theater  the  tragedy  comes  first,  the  farce 
afterward  ;  but  in  this  infidel  drama  of  death  the  farce  comes  first 
and  the  tragedy  afterward ;  in  the  former  the  atheists  laugh  and 
mock,  but  in  the  latter  God  will  laugh  and  mock.' 

"  Those  who  declare  that  he  had  deliberately  adopted  his 
theatrical  style  of  delivery  late  in  life  did  him  injustice.  K  was  in 
his  nature.  Years  afterward,  when  he  was  publicly  charged  with 
having  adopted  a  melodramatic  style  in  later  years,  we  inquired  of 
Dr.  Howard  Crosby,  who  was  one  of  his  professors,  whether  the 
charge  was  well  founded.  In  his  emphatic  way  he  said :  '  No ; 
Talmage  came  into  my  room  one  day  and  in  a  melodramatic  way 


56  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

took  leave  of  me.  Said  I,  "  Are  you  going  to  leave  the  University  ?" 
"  No,  but  after  profound  reflection  I  have  come  to  the  couclusion 
that  the  study  of  Greek  has  no  place  amid  the  abounding  activities 
of  the  nineteenth  century." 

"  Once  we  asked  Dr.  Talmage  what  his  theory  was  for  the 
oratorical  treatment  of  a  congregation.  Said  he  :  '  When  a  politician 
wants  to  make  votes  he  tries  to  fuse  the  whole  body  into  one  mass 
and  make  them  vote  and  cheer  for  Lincoln  or  Grant.  I  try  to  fuse 
my  congregation  into  one  mass  and  make  them  hurrah  and  vote  for 
Jesus  Christ.'  To  the  question,  '  Is  there  not  a  difference  ?  Every- 
thing is  concentrated  on  a  vote.  The  politicians  do  not  care  how 
those  people  act,  talk  or  feel  if  they  will  only  vote  right  on  Election 
Day.'  Said  Dr.  Talmage,  '  There  is  a  difference,  but  it  is  a  great 
thing  to  start  them  ;  many  will  stick." 

It  is  universally  admitted  that  the  death  of  Dr.  Talmage 
closed  one  of  the  most  resplendent  careers  in  the  American  ministry. 
His  mission  was  that  of  a  preacher.  As  a  master  of  assemblies  few 
men  in  the  last  century  surpassed  him.  .  His  congregations  were 
only  limited  by  the  capacity  of  the  auditorium,  and  his  pen  reached 
across  the  earth.  The  permanency  of  his  work  is  something  that 
no  one  can  estimate.  It  would  be  unjust  to  measure  him  by  the 
ordinary  standards  of  life.  His  influence  upon  and  through  others 
transcends  limit. 

Oratory  is  the  power  to  attract  and  hold  the  attention.  Judged 
by  that  standard  Dr.  Talmage  ranks  with  Whitefield.  Those  who 
heard  him  in  the  height  of  his  power  heard  a  man  unique  in  the 
history  of  pulpit  eloquence.  It  must  always  remain  to  his  credit 
that  in  an  age  of  skepticism  he  never  swerved  from  the  old  faith. 
His  gospel  was  that  of  the  New  Testament — plain,  positive  and 
delivered  with  an  unction  peculiarly  his  own. 

From  the  very  beginning  of  his  career  to  its  end  Dr.  Talmage 
had  detractors  ;  but,  whatever  could  be  said  against  him,  the  fact 
remained  that  he  uniformly  and  under  the  most  diverse  conditions 
attracted  and  held  immense  audiences.  He  was  a  man  whom 
people  liked  to  hear  and  read.  There  was  a  magnetism  about  his 
public  discourse,  a  hearty  good  cheer  and  unconventionality  of 
phrase  and  manner  that  attracted  and  interested.  We,  at  least,  are 
not  disposed  to  minimize  these  qualities.  We  wish  that  many 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE.  57 

more  preachers,  who  are  far  his  superior  in  learning,  had  a  good 
deal  more  of  his  magnetism  fire,  and  enthusiasm,  and  power  to  draw 
people  of  all  classes  to  the  sanctuary. 

In  theology  Dr.  Talmage  was  as  conservative  as  he  was  icono- 
clastic in  his  methods  of  preaching.  He  never  varied  a  hair's 
breadth  from  the  orthodox  theology  of  the  first  third  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  He  was  alert  for  all  manner  of  novelties  except 
novelties  in  doctrine.  There  is  little  evidence  that  he  attempted 
to  understand  the  modern  religious  attitude,  and  his  tirades  against 
evolution  were  caricatures,  as  he  meant  to  bring  that  theory  into 
contempt  and  ridicule. 

Dr.  Talmage  was  known  all  over  Christendom  by  his  preaching 
as  well  as  by  his  pen.  He  was  a  factor  in  the  editorial  realm  as  well 
as  in  periodical  literature.  He  published  a  number  of  popular  books, 
such  as  "  Everyday  Religion,"  "Old  Wells  Dug  Out,"  "Crumbs 
Swept  Up,"  "The  Marriage  Ring,"  and  "The  Pathway  of  Life." 
His  sermons  were  published  at  one  time  in  2000  newspapers  in  all 
parts  of  the  United  States  and  had  a  wide  circulation  in  Europe  and 
other  portions  of  the  world.  He  had  thousands  of  readers  far  and 
near.  He  made  his  influence  tell  upon  the  platform  on  both  sides 
of  the  Atlantic  and  gained  as  much  renown  and  success  in  this  line 
of  activity  as  in  the  pulpit.  He  was  a  man  of  tremendous  energy 
and  of  unusual  versatility  of  talent. 

He  is  not  to  be  measured  by  ordinary  standards.  He  was  sub- 
jected to  much  criticism,  but  he  preached  notwithstanding  his  eccen- 
tricity a  pure  and  pungent  Gospel,  driving  truth  home  with  marked 
and  impressive  effect.  He  was  bold  and  aggressive,  and  was  able  to 
reach  and  influence  myriads  in  ways  and  by  methods  that  in  other 
hands  would  have  been  a  total  failure.  He  knew  his  age  and  could, 
in  his  original  and  peculiar  style,  touch  the  heart,  quicken  the  con- 
science and  direct  the  life.  We  consider  him  one  of  those  excep- 
tional men  whom  God  raises  up  to  do  a  special  work  in  an  unusual 
manner  and  whom  he  employs  to  arouse  and  mould  a  class  of  people 
whom  more  ordinary  men  could  not  reach,  at  least,  to  so  marked 
and  effective  a  degree. 

Through  all  his  brilliant  career  he  kept  his  one  great  object 
before  him,  and  never  lost  sight  of  the  high  and  holy  purpose  that 
influenced  him  in  entering  the  ministry  and  carrying  on  its  work. 


58  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE. 

A  religions  journal  thus  speaks  of  the  celebrated  preacher: 
"  For  many  years  he  was  a  very  prominent  figure  in  Brooklyn  as 
well  as  on  the  lecture  platforms  and  at  assemblies  in  other  parts  of 
the  country.  Dr.  Talmage's  most  noticeable  gift  was  his  pictorial 
power.  His  sermons  were  singularly  graphic  in  illustration ;  and 
their  pictorial  vividness  secured  for  him  wide  hearing  wherever  he 
choose  to  speak.  He  was  earnest  in  his  faith  and  in  his  desire  to 
bring  men  into  the  Christian  life.  He  had  unusual  power  of  des-6 
scription,  with  a  free  control  over  both  the  humorous  and  the 
pathetic  elements  of  oratory.  He  could  make  people  laugh  and  cry. 

"Such  was  his  power  of  vivid  description,  his  bold  and  forcible 
utterances,  the  beauty  and  simplicity  of  his  language,  and  such  was 
the  adaptation  of  his  thought  to  the  average  mind  that  for  years 
his  sermons  were  almost  the  only  ones  printed  and  read  in  this 
country.  To  multitudes  they  were  a  welcome  weekly  visitor.  They 
refuted  the  common  impression  that  religion  is  dull.  They 
arrested  and  held  the  attention.  They  appealed  to  the  best  and 
noblest  part  of  human  nature  and  aroused  the  dormant  emotions 
which  had  only  to  be  awakened  to  become  the  earnest  promptings 
of  a  devout  religious  life.  They  comforted  stricken  hearts,  held 
forth  great  joys  and  triumphs  of  faith  and  hope,  and  opened  the 
very  heaven  of  heavens  to  the  reader's  enraptured  vision." 

Glowing  tributes  to  the  worth  and  splendid  ability  of  Dr. 
Talmage  were  paid  him  by  many  of  his  brethren  of  all  denomina- 
tions. Rev.  Thomas  B.  Gregory,  said  :  "  Dr.  Talmage  was  probably 
the  best  known  clergyman  on  earth.  His  name  was  as  familiar  as  a 
household  word  in  hundreds  of  thousands  of  homes  in  America, 
England  and  her  colonies,  and  his  words,  spoken  and  printed, 
reached  millions  every  week.  In  addition  to  his  labors  as  preacher 
and  popular  lecturer  Dr.  Talmage  was  a  most  voluminous  writer. 
A  constant  writer  for  the  newspapers,  a  steady  contributor  to  the 
magazines,  he  still  found  time  to  make  many  books. 

"  He  published  during  his  busy  Brooklyn  pastorate  as  many  as 
fourteen  volumes,  besides  several  volumes  of  collected  sermons  and 
a  number  of  lectures  and  addresses.  Talmage  was  looked  upon  by 
many  as  having  been  too  sensational  in  his  methods,  but  no  one 
ever  doubted  his  power  with  men,  his  ability  to  draw  mighty 
audiences  wherever  and  whenever  he  was  announced  to  preach  or 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  DE  WITT  TALMAGE.  59 

lecture.  His  was  a  name  to  conjure  with,  and  in  the  day  of  his 
power  he  was  easily  the  king  of  the  American  platform.  Those  who 
derided  his  methods  went  still  to  hear  him,  and  hearing  they  had  to 
confess  his  marvelous  gift  of  speech  and  his  wonderful  personal 
magnetism. 

"  During  the  last  ten  years  of  his  life  Dr.  Talmage  made  several 
extensive  trips  abroad,  preaching  in  all  the  larger  cities  of  England 
and  the  continent  to  mighty  congregations.  His  fame  had  gone  ^ 
before  him,  and  the  great  cathedral  churches  of  the  old  world  were 
not  large  enough  to  hold  the  thousands  who  wanted  to  hear  the 
famous  divine  from  America. 

Perhaps  the  highest  honor  that  the  great  preacher  received 
while  abroad  was  the  invitation  to  visit  and  dine  with  the  Czar  of 
Russia,  which  invitation  came  to  him  direct  from  the  mighty  Czar 
himself.  Talmage  accepted  the  invitation,  held  his  own  in  the 
august  presence  of  royalty,  and  got  out  without  sacrificing  one  jot 
or  tittle  of  his  good,  old-fashioned,  democratic  principle. 

"  Talmage  is  dead  !  The  great  magician  of  the  American 
pulpit.  The  king  of  the  American  platform,  the  man  who  thrilled 
of  millions  human  souls  with  his  eloquence,  is  gone  !  How  long 
will  it  be  before  there  is  another  like  him  !" 

The  Rev.  John  F.  Loba,  pastor  of  the  First  Congregational 
Church  of  Evanston  said  : 

"  For  more  than  twenty-one  years,  since  I  have  known  Talmage 
through  the  press,  he  has  been  a  remarkable  figure  in  the  American 
pulpit.  His  sermons  have  been  read  by  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
people  all  over  the  land,  and  have  even  reacted  the  most  remote 
and  obscure  districts.  Dr.  Talmage  was  the  first  man  to  realize  the 
value  of  the  press  in  extending  the  word  of  God.  Through  the 
piilpit  and  press  he  preached  to  more  people  than  any  man  of 
modern  times.  He  was  a  remarkable  man. 

The    Rev.    William    Macafee,    pastor   of  the  First  Methodist, 
Church  of  Evanston,  said : 

"  Dr.  Talmage  was  a  great  preacher,  a  magnetic  orator,  and  a 
fluent  writer,  he  accomplished  great  good  for  the  cause  of  Christ." 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  LIFE 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


IS  life  worth  living 9  How  are  we  to  decide  this  matter  righteously 
and  intelligently?  You  will  find  the  same  man  oscillating  in 
his  opinion  from  dejection  to  exuberance,  and  if  he  be  very 
mercurial  in  his  temperament  his  conclusion  will  depend  very 
much  upon  which  way  the  wind  blows.  If  the  wind  blow  from  the 
northwest,  and  you  ask  him,  he  will  say,  "Yes;"  and  if  it  blow  from 
the  northeast,  and  you  ask  him,  he  will  say,  "  No."  How  are  we  then 
to  get  the  question  righteously  answered?  Suppose  we  call  all  nations 
together  in  a  great  convention  on  the  Eastern  or  the  Western  hemi- 
sphere, and  let  all  those  who  are  in  the  affirmative,  say,  "Aye,"  and 
all  those  who  are  in  the  negative,  say,  "No."  While  there  would  be 
hundreds  of  thousands  who  would  answer  in  the  affirmative,  there 
would  be  more  millions  who  would  answer  in  the  negative,  and  be- 
cause of  the  greater  number  who  suffer  from  sorrow  and  misfortune 
and  trouble,  the  "  Noes  "  would  have  it.  If  you  ask  me,  "  Is  life  worth 
living?"  I  answer,  it  all  depends  upon  the  kind  of  life  you  live, 

THE    MONEY-GETTING    MANIA. 

In  the  first  place,  I  remark  that  a  life  of  mere  money-getting'  is 
always  a  failure,  because  you  will  never  get  as  much  as  you  want.  The 
poorest  people  in  this  country  are  the  millionaires,  and  next  to  them  those 
who  have  half  a  million.  There  is  not  a  scissors-grinder  on  the  streets 
of  New  York  or  Brooklyn  who  is  so  anxious  to  make  money  as  these 
men  who  have  piled  up  fortunes  year  after  year  in  storehouses,  in 
government  securities,  in  tenement  houses,  in  whole  city  blocks.  You 
ought  to  see  them  jump  when  they  hear  the  fire-bell  ring.  You  ought 
to  see  them  in  their  excitement  when  the  Marine  Bank  explodes.  You 
ought  to  see  their  agitation  when  there  is  proposed  a  reformation  in 
60 


S 

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EC 

to 

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ft 

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tt 


HAGAR  AND  ISHMAEL. 


THE  SHADOW   OF  THE  CROSS- 


'Si 


w 

Q 
O 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  LIFE.  61 

the  tariff.  Their  nerves  tremble  like  harp-strings,  but  with  no  music 
in  the  vibration.  They  read  the  reports  from  Wall  Street  in  the 
morning  with  a  concern  that  threatens  paralysis  or  apoplexy,  or,  more 
probably,  they  have  a  telegraph  or  telephone  in  their  own  house, 
so  that  they  may  catch  every  breath  of  change  in  the  money-market. 
The  disease  of  accumulation  has  eaten  into  them — eaten  into  their 
heart,  into  their  lungs,  into  their  spleen,  into  their  liver,  into  their  bones. 

That  is  not  a  life  worth  living.  There  are  too  many  earthquakes 
in  it,  too  many  agonies  in  it,  too  many  perditions  in  it.  These  men 
build  their  castles,  and  they  open  their  picture-galleries,  and  they  sum- 
mon prima  donnas,  and  they  offer  every  inducement  for  happiness  to 
come  and  live  with  them,  but  happiness  will  not  come.  They  send 
footmaned  and  postillioned  equipages  to  bring  her  ;  she  will  not  ride  to 
their  door.  They  send  princely  escorts ;  she  will  not  take  their  arm. 
They  make  their  gateways  triumphal  arches  ;  she  will  not  ride  under 
them.  They  set  a  golden  throne  before  a  golden  plate ;  she  turns 
away  from  the  banquet.  They  call  to  her  from  upholstered  balconies  ; 
she  will  not  listen.  Mark  you,  this  is  the  failure  of  those  who  have 
made  large  accumulations  of  wealth. 

And  then  you  must  take  into  consideration  the  fact  that  the  vast 
majority  of  those  who  make  the  dominant  idea  of  life  money-getting, 
fall  far  short  of  affluence.  It  is  estimated  that  only  about  two  out  of 
a  hundred  business  men  have  anything  worthy  the  name  of  success. 
A  man  who  spends  his  life  with  the  one  dominant  idea  of  financial  ac- 
cumulation, spends  a  life  not  worth  living. 

A  life  of  sin,  a  life  of  pride,  a  life  of  indulgence,  a  life  of  worldli- 
ness,  a  life  devoted  to  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  is  a  failure — 
a  dead  failure,  an  infinite  failure.  I  care  not  how  many  presents  you 
send  to  that  cradle,  or  how  many  garlands  you  send  to  that  grave,  you 
need  to  put  right  under  the  name  on  the  tombstone  this  inscription  : 
"Better  for  that  man  if  he  had  never  been  born." 

BRIGHT   EXAMPLES. 

But  let  me  show  you  a  life  that  is  worth  living.  A  young  man 
says,  "I  am  here.  I  am  not  responsible  for  my  ancestry;  others  de- 
cided that.  I  am  not  responsible  for  my  temperament ;  God  gave  me 
that.  But  here  I  am,  in  the  afternoon  of  the  nineteenth  century,  at 
twenty  years  of  age.  I  am  here,  and  I  must  take  an  account  of  stock. 


62  THE  PROBLEM  OF  LIFE. 

Here  I  have  a  body  which  is  a  divinely  constructed  engine.  I  must  put 
it  to  the  very  best  uses,  and  I  must  allow  nothing  to  damage  this  rarest 
of  machinery.  Two  feet,  and  they  mean  locomotion.  Two  eyes,  and 
they  mean  capacity  to  pick  out  my  own  way.  Two  ears,  and  they  are 
telephones  of  communication  with  all  the  outside  world  ;  and  they  mean 
capacity  to  catch  the  sweetest  music,  and  the  voice  of  friendship — the 
very  best  music.  A  tongue,  with  almost  infinite  powers  of  articulation. 
And  hands  with  which  to  welcome,  or  resist,  or  lift,  or  smite,  or  wave, 
or  bless — hands  to  help  myself  and  help  others.  Here  is  a  world 
which,  after  six  thousand  years  of  battling  with  tempest  and  accident, 
is  still  grander  than  any  architect,  human  or  angelic,  could  have  drafted. 
I  have  two  lamps  to  light  me — a  golden  lamp  and  a  silver  lamp — a 
golden  lamp  set  on  the  sapphire  mantel  of  the  day,  a  silver  lamp  set 
on  the  jet  mantel  of  the  night.  Yea,  I  have  that  at  twenty  years  of 
age  which  defies  all  inventory  of  valuables — a  soul,  with  capacity  to 
choose  or  reject,  to  rejoice  or  suffer,  to  love  or  to  hate.  I  have  eighty 
years  for  a  lifetime,  sixty  years  yet  to  live.  I  may  not  live  an  hour, 
but  then  I  must  lay  out  my  plans  intelligently  and  for  a  long  life.  I 
must  remember  that  these  eighty  years  are  only  a  brief  preface  to  the 
five  hundred  thousand  millions  of  quintillions  of  years  which  will  be 
my  future  period  of  existence.  Now,  I  understand  my  opportunities 
and  my  responsibilities." 

I  would  not  find  it  hard  to  persuade  you  that  the  poor  lad,  Peter 
Cooper — making  glue  for  a  living,  and  then  amassing  a  great  fortune 
until  he  could  build  a  philanthropy  which  has  had  its  echo  in  ten 
thousand  philanthropies  all  over  the  country — lived  a  life  that  was  really 
worth  living.  Neither  would  I  find  it  hard  to  persuade  you  that  the 
life  of  Susannah  Wesley  was  worth  living.  She  sent  out  one  son  to  organ- 
ize Methodism,  and  the  other  son  to  ring  his  anthems  through  the  ages. 
I  would  not  find  it  hard  work  to  persuade  you  that  the  life  of  Frances 
Leere  was  worth  living,  as  she  established  in  England  a  school  for 
the  scientific  nursing  of  the  sick,  and  then  when  the  war  broke  out  be- 
tween France  and  Germany,  went  to  the  front,  and  with  her  own  hands 
scraped  the  mud  off  the  bodies  of  the  soldiers  dying  in  the  trenches, 
and  with  her  weak  arm — standing  one  night  in  the  hospital — pushed 
back  a  German  soldier  to  his  couch,  as,  all  frenzied  with  his  wounds, 
he  rushed  toward  the  door,  and  said,  "Let  me  go,  let  me  go  to  my 
liebe  mutter."  Major-generals  stood  back  to  let  this  angel  of  mercy  pass. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  LIFE.  63 

Neither  would  I  have  hard  work  to  persuade  you  that  Grace 
Darling,  the  heroine  of  the  life-boat,  lived  a  life  worth  living.  Yet  you 
say,  "  While  I  know  that  all  these  lived  lives  worth  living,  I  don't  think 
my  life  amounts  to  much."  Ah  !  my  friends,  whether  you  live  a  life 
conspicuous  or  inconspicuous,  it  is  worth  living,  if  you  live  aright. 
And  I  want  my  next  sentence  to  go  down  into  the  depths  of  all 
your  souls.  You  are  to  be  rewarded,  not  according  to  the  greatness  of 
your  work,  but  according  to  the  holy  industries  with  which  you  employed 
the  talents  y oil  really  possessed.  The  majority  of  the  crowns  of  heaven 
will  not  be  given  to  people  with  ten  talents,  for  most  of  them  were 
tempted  only  to  serve  themselves.  The  vast  majority  of  the  crowns 
of  heaven  will  be  given  to  people  who  had  one  talent,  but  gave  it  all 
to  God.  And  remember  that  our  life  here  is  introductory  to  another. 
It  is  the  vestibule  to  a  palace  ;  but  who  despises  the  door  of  a  Made^ 
leine  because  there  are  grander  glories  within  ?  Your  life,  if  rightly 
lived,  is  the  first  bar  of  an  eternal  oratorio,  and  who  despises  the  first 
note  of  Haydn's  symphonies  ?  And  the  life  you  live  now  is  all  the 
more  worth  living  because  it  opens  into  a  life  that  shall  never  end,  and 
the  last  letter  of  the  word  "time"  is  the  first  letter  of  the  word 
"eternity." 

DO    YOUR   BEST. 

But  to  live  well  we  must  live  worthily — make  our  lives  worth 
living.  The  secret  of  success,  both  in  temporal  and  spiritual  things, 
is  to  do  your  best.  A  parishioner  asked  a  clergyman  why  the  congre- 
gation had  filled  up,  and  why  the  church  was  now  so  prosperous  above 
what  it  had  ever  been  before.  "  Well,"  said  the  clergyman,  "I  will 
tell  you  the  secret.  I  met  a  tragedian  some  time  ago,  and  I  said  to 
him,  '  How  is  it  you  get  along  so  well  in  your  profession  ? '  The 
tragedian  replied,  '  The  secret  is,  I  always  do  my  best ;  when  stormy 
days  come,  and  the  theater  is  not  more  than  a  half  or  a  fourth  occu- 
pied, I  always  do  my  best,  and  that  has  been  the  secret  of  my  getting 
on.' '  And  the  clergyman,  reciting  it,  said,  "I  have  remembered  that, 
and  ever  since  then  I  have  always  done  my  best." 

In  whatever  occupation  or  profession  God  has  put  you,  do  your 
best.  Whether  the  world  appreciates  it  or  not,  do  your  best — always 
do  your  best.  Domitian,  the  Roman  Emperor,  for  one  hour  every  day 
caught  flies  and  killed  them  with  his  penknife  ;  and  there  are  people 


64  THE  PROBLEM  OF  LIFE. 

with  imperial  opportunities  who  set  themselves  to  some  equally  insig- 
nificant business.  Oh,  for  something  grand  to  do  !  Concentrate  all 
your  energies  of  body,  mind,  and  soul  upon  some  one  great  work, 
and  nothing  in  earth  or  hell  can  stand  before  you.  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  good  luck. 

I  have  learned  also,  in  coming  up  this  steep  hill  of  life,  that  all 
events  are  connected.  I  look  back  and  see  events  which  I  thought 
were  isolated  and  alone,  but  which  I  now  find  were  joined  to  everything 
that  went  before,  and  everything  that  came  after.  The  chain  of  life  is 
made  up  of  a  great  many  links — large  links,  small  links,  silver  links, 
iron  links,  beautiful  links,  ugly  links,  mirthful  links,  solemn  links — but 
they  are  all  parts  of  one  great  chain  of  destiny.  Each  minute  is  made 
up  of  sixty  links,  and  each  day  is  made  up  of  twenty-four  links,  and 
each  year  is  made  of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  links  ;  but  they  are 
all  parts  of  one  endless  chain  which  plays  and  works  through  the  hand 
of  an  all-governing  God. 

"But,"  says  some  one,  "don't  you  know  there  may  be  trials, 
hardships,  sicknesses,  and  severe  duties  ahead?"  Oh,  yes  !  But  if  I 
am  on  a  railroad  journey  of  a  thousand  miles,  and  I  have  gone  five 
hundred  of  the  miles,  and  during  those  five  hundred  miles  I  have  found 
the  bridges  safe,  and  the  track  solid,  and  the  conductors  competent, 
and  the  engineer  wide  awake,  does  not  that  give  me  confidence  for  the 
other  five  hundred  miles  ?  God  has  seen  me  through  up  to  this  time, 
and  I  am  going  to  trust  Him  for  the  rest  of  the  journey.  I  believe  I 
have  a  through  ticket,  and  although  sometimes  the  track  may  turn  this 
way  or  the  other  way,  and  sometimes  we  may  be  plunged  through 
tunnels,  and  sometimes  we  may  have  a  hot-box  that  detains  the  train, 
and  sometimes  we  may  switch  off  upon  a  side-track  to  let  somebody 
else  pass,  and  sometimes  we  may  see  a  red  flag  warning  us  to  slow  up, 
I  believe  we  are  going  through  to  the  right  place. 

I  have  not  a  fear  or  an  anxiety,  that  I  can  mention.  I  do  not  know 
one.  I  put  all  my  case  in  God's  hands,  and  free  my  soul  from  anxiety 
about  the  future.  I  do  not  feel  foolhardy.  I  only  trust.  I  trust,  I 
trust,  I  trust ! 

From  this  hill-top  of  life  I  catch  a  glimpse  of  those  hill-tops  where 
all  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  be  done  away.  Oh,  that  God  would  make 
that  world  to  us  a  reality !  Faith  in  that  world  helped  old  Dr.  Tyng, 
when  he  stood  by  the  casket  of  his  dead  son,  whose  arm  had  been  torn 


THE  SURE  AND  STEADFAST  ANCHOR 


66  THE  PROBLEM  OF  LIFE. 

off  in  the  threshing-machine.  With  trusting  composure,  he  preached 
the  funeral  sermon  of  his  own  beloved  son.  Faith  in  that  world 
helped  Martin  Luther,  without  one  tear,  to  put  away  in  death  his 
favorite  child.  Faith  in  that  world  helped  the  dying  woman  to  see  on 
the  sky  the  letter  "  W."  When  they  asked  her  what  she  supposed  the 
letter  "W"  in  the  sky  meant,  "Why,"  she  said,  "don't  you  know? 
W  stands  for  welcome."  O  Heaven,  swing  open  thy  gates !  O 
Heaven,  roll  upon  us  some  of  thy  anthems!  O  Heaven,  flash  upon 
us  the  vision  of  thy  lustre  ! 

"WITH    THE    SKIN    OF    THEIR    TEETH." 

The  ship  "Emma,"  bound  from  Gottenburg  to  Harwich,  was 
sailing  on,  when  the  man  on  the  lookout  saw  something  that  he  pro- 
nounced a  vessel  bottom  up.  There  was  something  on  it  that  looked 
like  a  sea-gull,  but  was  afterward  found  to  be  a  waving  handkerchief. 
In  the  small  boat  the  crew  pushed  out  to  the  wreck,  and  found  that  it 
was  a  capsized  vessel,  and  that  three  men  had  been  digging  their  way 
out  through  the  bottom  of  the  ship.  When  the  vessel  capsized  they 
had  no  means  of  escape.  The  captain  took  his  penknife  and  dug 
away  through  the  planks  until  his  knife  broke.  Then  an  old  nail  was 
found,  with  which  they  attempted  to  scrape  their  way  up  out  of  the 
darkness,  each  one  working  until  his  hand  was  well-nigh  paralyzed, 
and  he  sank  back  faint  and  sick.  After  long  and  tedious  work,  the 
light  broke  through  the  bottom  of  the  ship.  A  handkerchief  was 
hoisted.  Help  came.  They  were  taken  on  board  the  vessel  and 
saved.  Did  ever  men  come  so  near  a  watery  grave  without  dropping 
into  it?  How  narrowly  they  escaped — escaped  only  "with  the  skin 
of  their  teeth!' 

There  are  men  who  have  been  capsized  of  evil  passions,  and  cap- 
sized in  mid-ocean,  and  they  are  a  thousand  miles  away  from  any  shore 
!  jf  help.  They  have  for  years  been  trying  to  dig  their  way  out.  They 
have  been  digging  away,  and  digging  away,  but  they  can  never  be  de- 
livered unless  they  will  hoist  some  signal  of  distress.  However  weak 
and  feeble  it  may  be,  Christ  will  see  it,  and  bear  down  upon  the  help- 
less craft,  and  take  them  on  board  ;  and  it  will  be  known  on  earth  and 
in  heaven  how  narrowly  they  escaped — "escaped  as  with  the  skin  of 
their  teeth" 


EVOLUTION 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


THERE  is  no  contest  between  genuine  science  and  revelation 
The  same  God  who  by  the  hand  of  the  prophet  wrote  on 
parchment,  by  the  hand  of  the  storm  has  written  on  the  rock. 
The  best  telescopes  and  microscopes  and  electric  batteries  and  philo- 
sophical apparatus  belong  to  Christian  universities.  Who  gave  us 
magnetic  telegraphy  ?  Professor  Morse,  a  Christian.  Who  swung  the 
lightnings  under  the  sea,  cabling  the  continents  together  ?  Cyrus  W. 
Field,  the  Christian.  Who  discovered  the  anaesthetical  properties  of 
chloroform,  doing  more  for  the  relief  of  human  pain  than  any  man  that 
ever  lived,  driving  back  nine-tenths  of  the  horrors  of  surgery?  James 
Y.  Simpson,  of  Edinburgh,  as  eminent  for  piety  as  for  science  ;  on 
week-days  in  the  university  lecturing  on  profoundest  scientific  subjects, 
and  on  Sabbaths  preaching  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  to  the  masses 
of  Edinburgh.  I  saw  the  universities  of  that  city  draped  in  mourning 
for  his  death,  and  I  heard  his  eulogy  pronounced  by  the  destitute  popu- 
lations of  the  Cowgate.  Science  and  revelation  are  the  bass  and  the 
soprano  of  the  same  tune.  The  whole  world  will  yet  acknowledge  the 
complete  harmony.  But  between  science  falsely  so  called  and  revela- 
tion, there  is  an  uncompromising  war,  and  one  or  the  other  must  go 
under.  And  when  I  say  scientists,  of  course,  I  do  not  mean  literary 
men  or  theologians  who  in  essay  or  in  sermon,  and  without  giving  their 
life  to  scientific  investigation,  look  at  the  subject  on  this  side  or  that, 
By  scientists  I  mean  those  who  have  a  specialty  in  that  direction,  and 
who,  through  zoological  garden  and  aquarium,  and  astronomical  obser- 
vatory, give  their  life  to  the  study  of  the  physical  earth,  its  plants  and 
its  animals,  and  the  regions  beyond  so  far  as  optical  instruments  have 
explored  them. 


68  EVOLUTION. 

I  put  upon  the  witness  stand,  living  and  dead,  the  leading  evolu 
tionists — Ernst  Haeckel,  Huxley,  Darwin,  Spencer.  On  the  witness 
stand,  ye  men  of  science,  living  and  dead,  answer  these  questions  : 
Do  you  believe  the  Holy  Scriptures  ?  No.  And  so  say  they  all.  Do 
you  believe  the  Bible  story  of  Adam  and  Eve  in  the  Garden  of  Eden  ? 
No.  And  so  say  they  all.  Do  you  believe  the  miracles  of  the  Old 
and  New  Testament  ?  No.  And  so  say  they  all.  Do  you  believe 
that  Jesus  Christ  died  to  save  the  nations  ?  No.  And  so  say  they  all. 
Do  you  believe  in  the  regenerating  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost?  No. 
And  so  say  they  all.  Do  you  believe  that  human  supplication  directed 
heavenward  ever  makes  any  difference  ?  No.  And  so  say  they  all. 

WHAT   THEY    TEACH. 

Darwin  says  that  the  human  hand  is  only  a  fish's  fin  developed. 
He  says  that  the  human  ear  could  once  have  been  moved  by  force  of 
will  just  as  a  horse  lifts  its  ear  at  a  frightful  object.  He  says  that  the 
human  race  were  originally  web-footed.  From  primal  germ  to  tadpole, 
from  tadpole  to  fish,  from  fish  to  reptile,  from  reptile  to  wolf,  from  wolf 
to  chimpanzee,  and  from  chimpanzee  to  man.  Now,  if  anybody  says 
that  the  Bible  account  of  the  starting  of  the  human  race  and  the  evo- 
lutionist account  of  the  starting  of  the  human  race  are  the  same 
accounts,  he  makes  an  appalling  misrepresentation. 

Prefer,  if  you  will,  Darwin's  "  Origin  of  Species  "  to  the  book  of 
Genesis,  but  know  that  you  are  an  infidel.  As  for  myself,  since  Her- 
bert Spencer  was  not  present  at  the  creation  and  the  Lord  Almighty 
was  present,  I  prefer  to  take  the  divine  account  as  to  what  really 
occurred  on  that  occasion.  To  show  that  this  evolution  is  only  an 
attempt  to  eject  God,  and  to  postpone  Him  and  to  put  Him  clear  out 
of  reach,  I  ask  a  question  or  tiuo.  The  baboon  made  the  man,  and  the 
wolf  made  the  baboon,  and  the  reptile  made  the  quadruped,  and  the 
fish  made  the  reptile,  and  the  tadpole  made  the  fish,  and  the  primal 
germ  made  the  tadpole.  Who  made  the  primal  germ  ?  Most  of  the 
evolutionists  say,  "We  don't  know."  Others  say,  "It  made  itself." 
Others  say,  "  It  was  spontaneously  generated."  There  is  not  one  of 
them  who  will  fairly  and  openly  and  frankly  and  emphatically  say, 
"  God  made  it." 

Agassiz  says  that  he  found,  in  a  reef  of  Florida,  the  remains  of 
insects  thirty  thousand  years  old,  and  that  they  were  just  like  the  insects 


EVOLUTION.  69 

now.  There  has  been  no  change.  All  the  facts  of  ornithology  and 
zoology  and  ichthyology  and  conchology,  are  but  an  echo  of  Genesis 
first  and  twenty-first:  "Every  winged  fowl  after  his  kind."  Every 
creature  after  its  kind.  While  common  observation  and  science  cor- 
roborate the  Bible  I  will  not  stultify  myself  by  surrendering  to  the 
elaborated  guesses  of  evolutionists. 

HOW   WORLDS   WERE    MADE. 

To  show  that  evolution  is  infidel  I  place  also  the  Bible  account  of 
how  worlds  were  made  opposite  the  evolutionists'  account  of  how 
worlds  were  made.  Bible  account :  God  made  two  great  lights—the 
one  to  rule  the  day,  the  other  to  rule  the  night ;  he  made  the  stars 
also,  Evolutionist  account :  Away  back  in  the  ages,  there  was  a  fire- 
rnisl,  or  star-dust,  and  this  fire-mist  cooled  off  into  granite,  and  then 
this  granite,  by  earthquake  and  by  storm  and  by  light,  was  shaped  into 
mountains  and  valleys  and  seas,  and  so  what  was  originally  fire-mist 
became  what  we  call  the  earth. 

Who  made  the  fire-mist  ?  Who  set  the  fire-mist  to  world-making  ? 
Who  cooled  off  the  fire-mist  into  granite  ?  You  have  pushed  God  some 
sixty  or  seventy  million  miles  from  the  earth,  but  he  is  too  near  yet  for 
the  health  of  evolution.  For  a  great  while  the  evolutionists  boasted 
that  they  had  found  the  very  stuff  out  of  which  this  world  and  all 
worlds  were  made.  They  lifted  the  telescope  and  they  saw  it,  the  very 
material  out  of  which  worlds  made  themselves — nebulae  of  simple  gas. 
They  laughed  in  triumph  because  they  had  found  the  factory  where  the 
worlds  were  manufactured,  and  there  was  no  God  anywhere  around 
the  factory !  But  in  an  unlucky  hour  for  infidel  evolutionists  the  spec- 
troscopes of  Fraunhofer  and  Kirchoff  were  invented,  by  which  they 
saw  into  the  nebula,  and  found  that  it  was  not  a  simple  gas,  but  was  a 
compound,  and  hence  had  to  be  supplied  from  some  other  source. 
That  implied  a  God,  and  away  went  their  theory,  shattered  into  ever- 
lasting demolition ! 

SURVIVAL  OF   THE    FITTEST.  " 

There  is  one  tenet  of  evolution  which  it  is  demanded  that  we  shall 
adopt — that  which  Darwin  calls  "  Natural  Selection,"  and  which  Wal- 
lace calls  the  "  Survival  of  the  Fittest."  By  this  they  mean  that  the  human 
race  and  the  brute  creation  are  all  the  time  improving,  because  th<s 
weak  die  and  the  strong  live.  Those  who  do  not  die,  survive  because 


70  EVOLUTION. 

they  are  the  fittest.  They  say  the  breed  of  sheep,  and  cattle,  and  dogs, 
and  men,  is  all  the  time  improving,  naturally  improving.  No  need  of 
God,  or  any  Bible,  or  any  religion,  but  just  natural  progress. 

You  see,  the  race  starts  with  "spontaneous  generation,"  and  then 
it  goes  right  on  until  Darwin  can  take  us  up  with  his  "natural  selection," 
and  Wallace  can  take  us  up  with  his  "survival  of  the  fittest,"  and  so 
we  go  right  on  up  forever.  Beautiful !  But  do  the  fittest  survive  ? 
Garfield  died  in  September — Guiteau  surviving  until  the  following  June 
"Survival  of  the  fittest?"  Ah!  no.  The  martyrs,  religious  and 
political,  dying  for  their  principles,  their  bloody  persecutors  living  on 
to  old  age.  "Survival  of  the  fittest?"  Five  hundred  thousand  brave 
Northern  men  marching  out  to  meet  five  hundred  thousand  brave 
Southern  men,  and  dying  on  the  battlefield  for  a  principle.  Hundreds 
of  thousands  of  these  men  went  down  into  the  grave-trenches.  We 
staid  at  home  in  comfortable  quarters.  Did  they  die  because  they  were 
not  as  fit  to  live  as  we  who  survived?  Ah!  no  ;  not  the  "survival  of 
the  fittest."  Ellsworth  and  Nathaniel  Lyon  falling  on  the  Northern 
side — Albert  Sidney  Johnston  and  Stonewall  Jackson  falling  on  the 
Southern  side.  Did  they  fall  because  they  were  not  as  fit  to  live  as  the 
soldiers  and  the  generals  who  came  back  in  safety  ?  Did  that  child  die 
because  it  was  not  as  fit  to  live  as  those  of  your  family  that  survived? 
Not  the  "survival  of  the  fittest."  In  all  communities  some  of  the 
noblest,  grandest  men  die  in  youth,  or  in  mid-life,  while  some  of  the 
meanest  and  most  contemptible  live  on  to  old  age.  No,  it  is  not  the 
"survival  of  the  fittest."  Bitten  with  the  frosts  of  the  second  death 
be  the  tongue  that  dares  to  utter  it! 

NO    NATURAL    PROGRESS. 

But  to  show  you  that  this  doctrine  is  antagonistic  to  the  Bible  and 
to  common  sense,  I  have  only  to  prove  to  you  that  there  has  been  no 
natural  progress.  Vast  improvement  from  another  source,  but  mind 
you,  no  natural  progress.  Where  is  the  fine  horse  in  any  of  our  parks 
whose  picture  of  eye  and  mane,  and  nostril  and  neck  and  haunches,  is 
worthy  of  being  compared  to  Job's  picture  of  a  horse,  as  he,  thousands 
of  years  ago,  heard  it  paw,  and  neigh,  and  champ  its  bit  for  the  battle? 
Pigeons  of  to-day  are  not  so  wise  as  the  carrier  pigeons  of  five  hundred 
years  ago — pigeons  that  carried  the  mails  from  army  to  army  and  from 
city  to  city  ;  one  of  them  flung  into  the  sky  at  Rome  or  Venice  landing 
without  ship  or  rail-train  in  London, 


EVOLUTION.  73 

And  as  to  the  human  race,  so  far  as  mere  natural  progress  is  con- 
cerned, it  started  with  men  ten  feet  high  ;  now  the  average  is  about 

o  £> 

five  feet  six  inches.  It  started  with  men  living  two  hundred,  four  hun- 
dred, eight  hundred,  nine  hundred  years,  and  now  thirty  years  is  the 
average  of  human  life.  Mighty  progress  we  have  made,  haven't  we? 
I  went  into  the  cathedral  at  York,  England,  and  the  best  artists  in 
England  had  just  been  painting  a  window  in  that  cathedral,  and  right 
beside  it  was  a  window  painted  four  hundred  years  ago,  and  there  is 
not  a  man  on  earth  but  would  say  that  the  modern  painting  of  the 
window  by  the  best  artists  of  England  is  not  worthy  of  being  compared 
with  the  painting  of  four  hundred  years  ago. 

ANTIQUITY   OF   THE    DOCTRINE. 

The  dogma  of  evolution  is  an  old  heathen  corpse  set  up  in  a 
morgue.  Charles  Darwin  and  Herbert  Spencer  are  trying  to  galvanize 
it.  They  drag  this  putrefaction  of  three  thousand  years  old  around  the 
earth,  boasting  that  it  is  their  discovery ;  and  so  wonderful  is  the  in- 
fatuation, that  at  the  Delmonico  dinner  given  in  honor  of  Herbert 
Spencer  there  were  those  who  ascribed  to  him  this  hypothesis  of 
evolution.  There  the  banqueters  sat  around  the  table  in  honor  of 
Herbert  Spencer,  chewing  beef  and  turkey  and  roast  pig,  in  which, 
according  to  their  doctrine  of  evolution,  they  were  eating  their  own 
relations  ' 

There  is  only  one  thing  worse  than  English  snobbery,  and  that  is 
American  snobbery.  I  like  democracy,  and  I  like  aristocracy ;  but 
there  is  one  kind  of  ocracy  in  this  country  that  excites  my  contempt, 
and  thatris  what  Charles  Kingsley,  after  he  had  witnessed  it  himself, 
called  snobocracy.  Now  I  say  it  is  a  gigantic  dishonesty  when  they 
ascribe  this  ancient  heathen  doctrine  of  evolution  to  any  modern  gen- 
tleman. I  am  not  a  pessimist,  but  an  optimist.  I  do  not  believe 
everything  is  going  to  destruction  ;  I  believe  everything  is  going  on  to 
redemption.  But  it  will  not  be  through  the  infidel  doctrine  of  evolu- 
tion, but  through  our  glorious  Christianity,  which  has  effected  all  the 
good  that  has  ever  been  wrought,  and  which  is  yet  to  reconstruct  all 
the  nations. 

THE    MISSING    LINK. 

It  seems  to  me,  that  evolutionists  are  trying  to  impress  the  great 
masses  of  the  people  with  the  idea  that  there  is  an  ancestral  line  leading 


74  EVOLUTION. 

from  the  primal  germ  on  up  through  the  serpent,  and  through  the 
quadruped,  and  through  the  gorilla  to  man.  They  admit  that  there 
is  "a  missing  link,"  as  they  call  it,  but  there  is  not  a  missing  link— ii 
is  a  whole  chain  gone.  Between  the  physical  construction  of  the  high- 
est animal  and  the  physical  construction  of  the  lowest  man,  there  is  a 
chasm  as  wide  as  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 

Evolutionists  tell  us  that  somewhere  in  Central  Africa,  or  in  Borneo, 
there  is  a  creature  half-way  between  the  brute  and  the  man,  and  that 
that  creature  is  the  highest  step  in  the  animal  ascent,  and  the  lowest 
step  in  the  human  creation.  But  what  are  the  facts  ?  The  brain  of 
the  largest  gorilla  that  was  ever  found  measures  thirty  cubic  inches, 
while  the  brain  of  the  most  ignorant  man  that  was  ever  found  measures 
fifty-five.  It  needs  a  bridge  of  twenty-five  arches  to  span  that  gulf. 
Between  the  gorilla  and  the  man,  there  is  also  a  difference  of  blood 
globule,  a  difference  of  nerve,  a  difference  of  muscle,  a  difference  of  done, 
a  difference  of  sinew. 

A    RADICAL   DIFFERENCE. 

Beside  this,  it  is  very  evident  from  another  fact  that  we  are  an  en- 
tirely different  creation,  and  that  there  is  no  kinship.  The  animal  in  a 
few  hours  or  months  comes  to  full  strength  and  can  take  care  of  itself. 
The  human  race  for  the  first  one,  two,  three,  five,  ten  years,  is  in  com- 
plete helplessness.  The  chick  just  come  out  of  its  shell  begins  to  pick 
up  its  own  food.  The  dog,  the  wolf,  the  lion,  soon  earn  their  own 
livelihood  and  act  for  their  own  defense.  The  human  race  does  not 
come  to  development  until  it  reaches  twenty  or  thirty  years  of  age,  and 
by  that  time  the  animals  that  were  born  the  same  year  the  man  was 
born — the  vast  majority  of  them — have  died  of  old  age.  This  shows 
that  there  is  no  kinship,  no  similarity.  If  we  had  been  born  of  the 
beast,  we  would  have  had  the  beast's  strength  at  the  start,  or  it  would 
have  had  our  weakness.  We  are  not  only  different,  but  opposite.  I 
pity  the  person  who  in  every  nerve,  and  muscle,  and  bone,  and  mental 
faculty  and  spiritual  experience  does  not  realize  that  he  is  higher  ip 
origin,  and  has  had  a  grander  ancestry,  than  the  beasts  which  perish. 
However  degraded  men  and  women  may  be,  even  though  they  may 
have  foundered  on  the  rocks  of  crime  and  sin,  and  though  we  shudder 

o 

when  we  pass  them,  nevertheless,  there  is  something  within  us  that  tells 
Us  they  belong  to  the  great  brotherhood  and  sisterhood  of  our  race, 
and  our  sympathies  are  aroused  in  regard  to  them.  But  gazing  upon 


HEROD  AND  THE  WISE  MEN 


75 


THE  vSERPENT  WORSHIPPED  AS  AN  IDOL   DESTROYED  BY   HEZEKIAH 
76 


EVOLUTION.  77 

the  swiftest  gazelle,  or  upon  the  tropical  bird  of  most  flamboyant  wing, 
or  upon  the  curve  of  the  grandest  courser's  neck,  we  feel  that  there  is 
no  consanguinity.  The  grandest,  the  highest,  the  noblest  of  them  is 
ten  thousand  fathoms  below  what  we  are  conscious  of  being. 

It  is  not  that  we  are  stronger  than  they,  for  the  lion  with  one 
stroke  of  his  paw  could  put  us  into  the  dust.  It  is  not  that  we  have 
better  eyesight,  for  the  eagle  can  descry  a  mole  a  mile  away.  It  is  not 
that  we  are  fleeter  of  foot,  for  a  roebuck  in  a  flash  is  out  of  sight,*  just 
seeming  to  touch  the  earth  as  he  goes.  Many  of  the  animal  creation 
surpass  us  in  fleetness  of  foot,  and  in  keenness  of  nostril,  and  in 
strength  of  limb ;  but  notwithstanding  all  that,  there  is  something 
within  us  that  tells  us  we  are  of  celestial  pedigree.  Not  of  the  mollusk, 
not  of  the  rhizopod,  not  of  the  primal  germ,  but  of  the  living  and 
omnipotent  God.  Lineage  of  the  skies  !  Genealogy  of  Heaven  ! 

I  tell  you  plainly,  that  if  your  father  was  a  muskrat,  and  your 
mother  an  opossum,  and  your  great  aunt  a  kangaroo,  and  the  toads 
and  the  snapping  turtles  were  your  illustrious  predecessors,  my  father 
is  as  God !  I  know  it.  I  feel  it.  It  thrills  through  me  with  an  emphasis 
and  an  ecstasy  which  all  your  arguments  drawn  from  anthropology  and 
biology  and  zoology  and  paleontology  and  all  the  other  ologies,  can 
never  shake. 

"  But,"  says  some  one,  "if  we  cannot  have  God  make  a  man,  let 
us  have  Him  make  a  horse."  "Oh,  no!  "  says  Huxley,  in  his  great 
lectures  in  New  York  several  years  ago.  No,  he  does  not  want  any 
God  around  the  premises.  God  did  not  make  the  horse.  The  horse 
came  of  the  plio-hippus,  and  the  plio-hippus  came  from  the  proto-hippus, 
and  the  proto-hippus  came  from  the  mio-hippus,  and  the  mio-hippus 
came  from  the  meso-hippus,  and  the  meso-hippus  came  from  the  oro- 
hippus,  and  so  away  back  we  trace  all  the  living  creatures  in  a  line, 
until  we  get  to  the  moneron.  We  admit  no  evidence  of  divine  inter- 
meddling with  the  creation  until  we  get  to  the  moneron,  and  that, 
Huxley  says,  is  of  so  low  a  form  of  life  that  the  probability  is  it  just 
made  itself,  or  was  the  result  of  spontaneous  generation.  What  a 
narrow  escape  from  the  necessity  of  having  a  God ! 

But  evolution  is  not  only  infidel  and  atheistic  and  absurd ;  it 
is  brutalizing  in  its  tendencies.  If  there  is  anything  in  the  world  that 
will  make  a  man  bestial  in  his  habits,  it  is  the  idea  that  he  was  descended 
from  the  beast.  Why,  according  to  the  idea  of  these  evolutionists,  we 


7S  EVOLUTION. 

are  only  a  superior  kind  of  cattle,  a  sort  of  Alderney  among  other 
herds.  To  be  sure,  we  browse  on  better  pasture,  and  we  have  better 
stalls  and  accommodations,  but  then  we  are  only  Southdowns  among 
the  great  flocks  of  sheep.  Born  of  a  beast,  to  die  like  a  beast;  for  the 
evolutionists  have  no  idea  of  a  future  world.  They  say  that  the  mind  is 
only  a  superior  part  of  the  body.  They  say  that  our  thoughts  are  only 
molecular  vibrations.  They  say  that  when  the  body  dies,  the  whole 
natuce  dies.  Annihilation  is  the  heaven  of  the  evolutionists.  From 
such  a  damnable  doctrine  who  would  not  turn  away? 

THE   TRUE    EVOLUTION. 

I  do  not  care  so  much  about  protoplasm  as  I  do  about  eternasm. 
The  "was"  is  overwhelmed  with  the  "to  be."  And  here  comes  in  the 
evolution  I  believe  in  :  not  natural  evolution,  but  gracious  and  divine 
and  heavenly  evolution — evolution  out  of  sin  into  holiness,  out  of  grief 
into  gladness,  out  of  mortality  into  immortality,  out  of  earth  into 
Heaven  ! 

Evolution  comes  from  evolvere,  to  unroll !  Unrolling  of  attributes, 
unrolling  of  rewards,  unrolling  of  experience,  unrolling  of  angelic 
companionship,  unrolling  of  divine  glory,  unrolling  of  providential  ob- 
scurities, unrolling  of  doxologies,  unrolling  of  rainbow  to  canopy  the" 
throne,  unrolling  of  a  new  Heaven  and  a  new  earth  in  which  shall 
dwell  righteousness.  Oh,  the  thought  overwhelms  me  !  I  have  not 
the  physical  endurance  to  consider  it. 

Monarchs  on  earth  of  all  the  lower  orders  of  creation,  and  then 
lifted  to  be  hierarchs  in  Heaven  !  Masterpiece  of  God's  wisdom  and 
goodness,  our  humanity ;  masterpiece  of  divine  grace,  our  enthrone- 
ment. I  put  one  foot  on  Darwin's  "Origin  of  the  Species,"  and  I  put 
the  other  foot  on  Spencer's  "Biology,"  and  then  holding  in  one  hand 
the  book  of  Moses,  I  see  our  Genesis,  and  holding  in  the  other  hand 
the  book  of  Revelation,  I  see  our  celestial  arrival.  For  all  wars,  I 
prescribe  the  Bethlehem  chant  of  the  angels.  For  all  sepulchers,  I 
prescribe  the  archangel's  trumpet.  For  all  earthly  griefs,  I  prescribe 
the  hand  that  wipes  away  all  tears  from  all  eyes.  Not  an  evolution 
from  beast  to  man,  but  an  evolution  from  contestant  to  conqueror,  an-1 
from  the  struggle  with  wild  beasts  in  the  arena  of  the  amphitheatre  to 
a  soft,  high,  blissful  seat  in  the  King's  galleries. 


JONAH  AT  NINEVEH 


CHAIN  OF  INFLUENCES 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


AT  school  and  in  college,  in  studying-  the  mechanical  powers,  we 
glorified  the  lever,  the  pulley,  the  inclined  plane,  the  screw,  the 
axle  and  the  wheel,  but  you  are  now  invited  to  study  the  philos- 
ophy of  the  chain.  These  links  of  metal,  one  with  another,  attracted 
the  old  Bible  authors,  and  we  hear  the  chain  rattle  and  see  its  coil  al 
the  way  through  from  Genesis  to  Revelation,  flashing  as  an  ornament, 
or  restraining  in  captivity,  or  holding  in  conjunction  as  in  the  case  of 
machinery.  To  do  him  honor,  Pharaoh  hung  a  chain  about  the  neck 
of  Joseph,  and  Belshazzar  one  about  the  neck  of  Daniel.  The  high- 
priest  had  on  his  breastplate  two  chains  of  gold.  On  the  camels' 
necks,  as  the  Ishmaelites  drove  up  to  Gideon,  jingled  chains  of  gold. 

The  Bible  refers  to  the  Church  as  having  such  glittering  orna- 
ments, saying,  "Thy  neck  is  comely  with  chains  of  gold."  On  the 
other  hand,  a  chain  means  captivity.  David  exults  that  power  had 
been  given  him  over  his  enemies,  "to  bind  their  kings  with  chains." 
The  old  missionary  apostle  cries  out:  "  For  the  hope  of  Israel,  I  am 
bound  with  this  chain."  In  the  prison  where  Peter  is  incarcerated,  you 
hear  one  day  a  great  crash  at  the  falling  off  of  his  chains.  St.  John  saw 
an  angel  come  down  from  Heaven  to  manacle  the  powers  of  darkness, 
and  having  "a  great  chain  in  his  hand";  the  four  angels  are  repre- 
sented as  "reserved  in  everlasting  chains";  while,  to  fetter  the  iniquity 
of  his  time,  Ezekiel  thunders  out,  "  Make  a  chain'' 

What  I  wish  to  impress  upon  myself  and  upon  you,  is  the  strength, 
in  right  and  in  wrong  directions,  of  constructive  forces  ;  the  superior 
power  of  a  chain  of  influences  above  one  influence ;  the  great  advan- 
tage of  a  congeries  of  links  above  one  link.  In  all  family  government, 
and  in  all  efforts  to  rescue  others,  and  in  all  attempts  to  stop  iniquity, 
*ake  the  suggestion  and  "  make  a  chain." 

6  8* 


82  THE  CHAIN  OF  INFLUENCES. 

That  which  contains  the  greatest  possibilities,  that  which  encloses 
the  most  tremendous  opportunities,  that  which  has  beating  against  its 
two  sides  all  the  eternities,  is  the  cradle.  The  grave  is  nothing  in  im- 
portance compared  with  it,  for  that  is  only  a  gully  which  we  step  across 
in  a  second,  but  the  cradle  has  within  it  a  new  eternity,  just  born  and 
never  to  cease. 

When,  three  or  four  years  ago,  the  Ohio  River  overflowed  its 
banks  and  the  wild  freshets  swept  down  with  them  harvests  and  cities, 
one  day  there  was  found  floating  on  the  waters  a  baby  in  a  cradle,  all 
unhurt,  wrapped  up  snug  and  warm,  and  its  blue  eyes  looking  into  the 
blue  of  the  open  heavens.  It  was  mentioned  as  something  extraordi- 
nary. But  every  cradle,  with  its  young  passenger,  floats  on  the 
swift  currents  of  the  centuries,  deep  calling  to  deep,  Ohios  and  St. 
Lawrences  and  Mississippis  of  influence  bearing  it  onward.  Now,  what 
shall  be  done  with  this  new  being  recently  launched?  Teach  him  an 
evening  prayer  ?  That  is  important,  but  not  enough.  Every  Sabbath 
afternoon  read  him  a  Bible  story?  That  is  important,  but  not  enough. 
Hear  him,  as  soon  as  he  can  recite,  some  Gospel  hymn  or  catechism  ? 
That  is  important,  but  not  enough.  Once  in  a  while  a  lesson,  once  in 
a  while  a  prayer,  once  in  a  while  a  restraining  influence  ?  All  these 
are  important,  but  not  enough.  Each  one  of  these  is  only  a  link,  and 
will  not  hold  him  in  the  tremendous  emergencies  of  life.  Let  it  be 
constant  instruction,  constant  prayer,  constant  application  of  good  influ- 
ences, along  the  line  of  consecutive  impressions,  reaching  from  his  first 
year  to  his  fifth,  and  from  his  fifth  to  his  tenth,  and  from  his  tenth  to 
his  twentieth, 

PRECEPT   AND    EXAMPLE. 

"  Make  a  chain."  Spasmodic  education,  paroxysmal  discipline, 
occasional  fidelity,  amount  to  nothing.  You  can  as  easily  hold  an 
|  anchor  by  one  link  as  hold  a  child  to  the  right  by  isolated  and  inter- 
mittent faithfulness.  The  example  must  connect  with  the  instruction. 
The  conversation  must  combine  with  the  actions.  The  week-day  con- 
sistency must  conjoin  with  the  Sunday  worship.  Have  family  prayers 
by  all  means  ;  but  be  petulant  and  inconsistent  and  unreasonable  in 
your  household,  and  your  prayers  will  be  a  blasphemous  farce.  So 
great,  in  our  times,  are  the  temptations  of  young  men  to  dissipation, 
and  of  young  .women  to  social  follies,  that  it  is  most  important  that 


84  THE  CHAIN  OF  INFLUENCES. 

their  first  eighteen  years  of  life  shall  be  charged  with  a  religious  power 
that  will  hold  them  when  they  get  out  of  the  harbor  of  home  into  the 
stormy  ocean  of  active  life.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  impressing  a 
child  so  powerfully  with  good,  that  sixty  years  will  have  no  more  power 
to  efface  it  than  sixty  minutes. 

What  a  rough  time  that  young  man  has  in  doing  wrong,  carefully 
nurtured  as  he  was  !  His  father  and  mother  have  been  dead  for  years, 
or  are  over  in  Scotland  or  in  England  or  in  Ireland  ;  but  they  have 
stood  in  the  door-way  of  every  dram-shop  that  he  entered,  and  under 
the  chandelier  of  every  house  of  dissipation,  saying,  "  My  son,  this  is 
no  place  for  you!  Have  you  forgotten  the  old  folks?  Don't  you 
recognize  these  wrinkles,  and  this  stoop  of  the  shoulder,  and  this  trem- 
ulous hand?  Go  home,  my  boy,  go  home.  By  the  God  to  whom  we 
consecrated  you,  by  the  cradle  in  which  we  rocked  you,  by  the  grass- 
grown  graves  in  the  old  country  church-yard,  by  the  Heaven  where  we 
hope  yet  to  meet  you,  go  home  !"  And  some  Sunday  you  will  be  sur- 
prised to  find  that  young  man  suddenly  asking  the  prayers  of  the 
church.  Some  Sunday  you  will  see  him  at  the  sacrament — drinking 
perhaps  out  of  the  same  kind  of  chalice  that  the  old  folks  drank  out  of 
years  ago,  when  they  commemorated  the  sufferings  of  the  Lord. 

You,  my  lad,  do  not  have  such  fun  in  sin  as  you  seem  to  have. 
I  know  what  spoils  your  fun.  You  cannot  shake  off  the  influence  of 
those  prayers  long  ago  offered,  or  of  those  kind  admonitions.  You 
cannot  make  those  loving  souls  go  away,  and  you  feel  like  saying, 
"  Father,  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  Mother,  why  do  you  bother  me 
with  suggestions  of  those  olden  times  ?"  But  they  will  not  go  away. 
They  will  push  you  back  from  your  evil  paths,  though  they  have  to 
come  from  their  shining  homes  in  Heaven,  and  stand  in  the  very  gates 
of  Hell  with  their  backs  scorched  by  the  fiery  blast.  With  their  hand 
on  your  shoulder,  and  their  breath  on  your  brow,  and  their  eyes  looking 
straight  into  yours,  they  will  say,  "We  have  come  to  take  you  home, 
O  son  of  many  anxieties."  At  last  that  young  man  turns,  through  the 
consecutive  influences  of  a  pious  parentage,  who,  out  of  prayers  and 
fidelities  innumerable,  made  a  chain.  This  is  the  chain  that  pulls  so 
mightily  on  five  hundred  of  you  this  morning. 

You  may  be  too  proud  to  shed  a  tear,  and  you  may,  to  convince 
others  of  your  imperturbability,  smile  to  your  friend  beside  you  ;  but 
there  is  not  so  much  power  in  an  Alpine  avalanche,  after  it  has  slipped 


HAGAR  PRESENTED  TO  ABRAHAM 


THE  CHAIN  OF  INFLUENCES.  85 

for  a  thousand  feet,  and  having  struck  a  lower  cliff,  is  taking  its  second 
bound  for  fifteen  hundred  feet  more,  as  there  is  power  in  the  chain  that 
pulls  you  this  moment  towards  God  and  Christ  and  Heaven.  Oh,  the 
almighty  pull  of  the  long  chain  of  early  gracious  influences  ' 

ONE    WEAK    LINK. 

But  all  people  between  thirty  and  forty  years  of  age  ;  yes,  between 
forty  and  fifty ;  aye,  between  fifty  and  sixty,  and  all  septuagenarians, 
need  a  surrounding  conjunction  of  good  influences.  In  Sing  Sing, 
Auburn,  Moyamensing,  and  all  the  other  great  prisons,  are  men  and 
women  who  went  wrong  in  mid-life  and  old  age.  We  need  around  us 
a  cordon  of  good  influences.  We  forget  to  apply  the  well-known  rule 
that  a  chain  is  no  stronger  than  its  weakest  link.  If  the  chain  be  made 

o 

of  a  thousand  links,  and  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  are  strong,  but 
one  is  weak,  the  chain  will  be  in  danger  of  breaking  at  that  one 
weak  link.  We  may  be  strong  in  a  thousand  excellencies,  and  yet 
have  one  weakness  that  endangers  us.  This  is  the  reason  that  we  see 

O 

men  around  us,  distinguished  for  a  whole  round  of  virtues,  collapse  and 
go  down.  The  weak  link,  in  the  otherwise  stout  chain,  gave  way  under 
the  pressure. 

The  first  chain-bridge  was  built  in  Scotland.  Walter  Scott  tells 
how  the  French  imitated  it  in  the  bridge  they  built  across  the  Seine. 
But  there  was  one  weak  point  in  that  chain-bridge.  There  was  a  mid- 
dle bolt  that  was  of  poor  material,  and  they  did  not  know  how  much 
depended  upon  that  middle  bolt  of  the  chain-bridge.  On  the  opening 
day  a  procession  started,  led  on  by  the  builder  of  the  bridge.  When 
the  mighty  weight  of  the  procession  was  fairly  on  it,  the  bridge  broke 
and  precipitated  the  multitude.  The  bridge  was  all  right  except  that 
middle  bolt. 

So  the  bridge  of  character  may  be  built  up  of  mighty  links  strong 
enough  to  hold  a  mountain  ;  but  if  there  be  one  weak  spot,  that  one 
point,  overlooked,  may  afterwards  cause  the  destruction  of  the  whole 
being.  And  what  multitudes  have  gone  down  for  all  time  and  eter- 
nity, because  in  the  chain-bridge  of  their  character  there  was  lacking  a 
strong  middle  bolt !  He  had  but  one  fault,  and  that  was  avarice,  hence 
forgery.  He  had  but  one  fault,  and  that  was  a  burning  desire  for 
intoxicants,  and  hence  his  fatal  debauch.  She  had  but  one  fault,  and 
that  was  an  inordinate  fondness  for  dress,  and  hence  her  own  and  her 


S6  THE  CHAIN  OF  INFLUENCES. 

husband's  bankruptcy.  She  had  but  one  fault,  and  that  was  her  quick 
temper,  and  hence  the  disgraceful  outburst.  What  we  all  want  is  to 
have  put  around  us  a  strong  chain  of  good  influences.  Christian  asso- 
ciation is  a  link.  Church  membership  is  a  link.  Scripture  research  is 
a  link.  Faith  in  God  is  a  link.  Put  together  all  these  influences. 
"  Make  a  chain." 

Most  excellent  is  it  for  us  to  get  into  company  better  than  our  ' 
selves.  If  we  are  given  to  telling  vile  stories,  let  us  put  ourselves 
among  those  that  will  not  abide  such  utterances.  If  we  are  stingy,  let 
us  put  ourseives  among  the  charitable.  If  we  are  morose,  let  us  put 
ourselves  among  the  good-natured.  If  we  are  given  to  tittle-tattle,  let 
us  put  ourselves  among  those  who  speak  no  ill  of  their  neighbors.  If 
we  are  despondent,  let  us  put  ourselves  among  those  who  make  the 
best  of  things.  If  evil  is  contagious,  I  am  glad  to  say  that  good  is  also 
catching.  People  go  up  into  the  hill  country  for  physical  health.  So, 
if  you  would  be  strong  in  your  soul,  get  off  the  lowlands  into  the  alti- 
tudes of  higher  moral  associations. 

For  many  of  the  circumstances  of  life  we  are  not  responsible.  For 
our  parentage  we  are  not  responsible  ;  for  the  place  of  our  nativity, 
not  responsible  ;  for  our  features,  our  stature,  our  color,  not  respon- 
sible ;  for  the  family  relations  in  which  we  were  born,  for  our  natural 
tastes,  for  our  mental  characters,  not  responsible.  But  we  are  respon- 
sible for  the  associations  that  we  choose,  and  the  moral  influences 
under  which  we  put  ourselves.  Character  seeks  an  equilibrium.  A. 
B.  is  a  good  man.  Y.  Z.  is  a  bad  man.  Let  them  now  voluntarily 
seek  each  other's  society.  A.  B.  will  lose  part  of  his  goodness,  and  Y. 
Z.  part  of  his  badness,  and  they  will  gradually  approach  each  other  in 
character,  and  in  the  end  stand  on  the  same  level. 

One  of  the  old  painters  refused  to  look  at  poor  pictures,  because 
he  said  that  it  damaged  his  style.  A  musician  cannot  afford  to  dwell 
among  discords  ;  nor  can  a  writer  afford  to  peruse  books  of  an  inferior 
style  ,  nor  an  architect  to  walk  out  among  disproportioned  structures. 
And  no  man  or  woman  was  ever  so  good  as  to  be  able  to  afford  evil 
associations  from  choice.  Therefore,  I  have  said,  make  it  a  rule  of 
your  life  to  go  among  those  better  than  yourselves.  You  cannot  find 
them  ?  What  a  pink  of  perfection  you  must  be.  When  was  your  lofty 
character  completed?  What  a  misfortune  for  the  saintly  and  the 
angelic  of  Heaven  that  they  are  not  enjoying  the  improving  influences 


THE  CHAIN  OF  INFLUENCES.  87 

of  your  society-'  Ah,  if  you  cannot  find  those  better  than  yourself,  it 
is  because  you  are  ignorant  of  yourself.  Woe  unto  you,  Scribes, 
Pharisees,  hypocrites  ! 

THE    CHAIN    THAT   ENSLAVES. 

But,  as  I  remarked  in  the  opening,  a  chain  not  only  means  an 
adornment  and  royalty  of  nature,  but  it  also  means  captivity.  I  sup- 
pose that  there  are  those  who  in  that  sense  are  deliberately  and  per- 
sistently making  a  chain.  Now  here  is  a  young  man  of  good  physical 
health,  good  manners,  and  good  education.  How  shall  he  put  together 
enough  links  to  make  a  chain  for  the  down-hill  road  ?  I  will  give  him 
some  directions.  First,  let  him  smoke.  If  he  cannot  stand  cigarettes, 
let  him  try  cigars.  I  think  that  cigarettes  will  help  him  on  this  road  a 
little  more  rapidly,  because  the  doctors  say  that  there  is  more  poison 
in  them  than  in  cigars.  And  I  have  a  little  more  confidence  in  this 
because  about  fifty  of  the  first  young  men  of  Brooklyn,  during  the  last 
year,  were,  according  to  the  doctors'  reports,  killed  by  cigarettes. 
Let  him  drink  light  wines  first,  or  ale,  or  lager,  and  gradually  he  will  be 
able  to  take  something  stronger  ;  and  as  all  styles  of  strong  drink  are 
more  and  more  adulterated,  his  progress  will  be  facilitated.  With  the 
old  time  drinks,  a  man  seldom  got  delirium  tremens  before  thirty  or 
forty  years  of  age  ;  now  he  can  get  the  madness  by  the  time  that  he  is 
eighteen.  Let  him  play  cards,  and  always  put  up  money  to  add  inter- 
est to  the  game.  If  father  and  mother  will  play  with  him,  that  will 
help  by  way  of  countenancing  the  habit.  And  it  will  be  such  a  pleas- 
ant thing  to  think  over  in  the  Day  of  Judgment,  when  the  parents  give 
an  account  for  the  elevated  manner  in  which  they  have  reared  their 
children. 

Every  Sunday  afternoon  take  a  carriage  ride,  and  stop  at  the 
hotels  or  at  the  side  of  the  road  for  refreshment.  Do  not  let  the  old 
fogy  prejudice  against  Sabbath-breaking  dominate  you.  Have  a  mem- 
bership in  some  club,  where  libertines  go  and  tell  about  some  of  their 
victorious  sins,  and  laugh  as  loud  as  any  of  them  in  derision  at  those 
who  belong  to  the  same  sex  as  your  mother  and  sister.  Pitch  your 
Bible  overboard  as  old-fashioned,  fit  only  for  women  and  children. 
Read  all  the  magazine  articles  that  put  Christianity  at  a  disadvantage. 
And  go  to  hear  all  the  lecturers  who  malign  Christ,  and  say  that  instead 
of  being  the  mighty  One  he  pretended  to  be,  he  was  an  impostor  and 
the  implanter  of  a  great  delusion.  Go,  at  first  out  of  curiosity,  to  see 


88  THE  CHAIN  OF  INFLUENCES. 

all  the  houses  of  dissipation,  and  then  go  because  you  have  fe.t  the 
thrill  of  their  fascination.  Getting  along  splendidly,  now !  Let  me  see 
what  further  I  can  suggest  in  that  direction.  Become  more  defiant  of 
all  decency,  more  loud-mouthed  in  your  atheism,  more  thoroughly  alco 
holized  ;  and  instead  of  the  small  stakes  that  will  do  well  enough  for 
games  of  chance  in  a  lady's  parlor,  put  up  something  worthy.  Put  up 
more — put  up  all  you  have.  Well  done  !  You  have  succeeded. 

You  have  made  a  chain.  The  tobacco-habit  one  link,  the  rum-habit 
one  link,  infidelity  another  link,  the  impure  club  another  link,  Sabbath- 
desecration  another  link,  uncleanness  another  link  ;  and  altogether  you 
have  made  a  chain.  There  is  a  chain  on  your  hand,  a  chain  on  your 
foot,  a  chain  on  your  tongue,  and  a  chain  on  your  soul.  Some  day  you 
will  wake  up  and  you  will  say,  "I'm  tired  of  this,  and  I  am  going  to 
get  loose  from  this  shackle."  You  pound  away  with  the  hammer  of 
good  resolution,  but  you  cannot  break  the  links.  Your  friends  join 
you  in  a  conspiracy  of  help,  but  they  fall  exhausted  in  the  unavailing 
attempt.  Now  you  begin  again,  with  the  writhing  of  a  Laocoon,  and 
the  muscles  are  distended,  and  the  great  beads  of  perspiration  dot  your 
forehead,  and  your  eyes  stand  out  from  their  sockets,  and  with  all  the 
concentrated  efforts  of  body,  mind  and  soul  you  attempt  to  get  loose, 
but  you  have  only  made  the  chain  sink  deeper.  All  the  devils  that  en- 
camp in  the  wine-flask,  and  the  rum-jug,  and  the  decanter  (each  one 
has  a  devil  of  its  own),  come  out  and  sit  around  you  and  chatter.  In 
the  midnight  you  spring  from  your  couch  and  cry,  "I  am  fast.  O  God, 
let  me  loose !  O,  ye  Powers  of  Darkness,  let  me  loose !  Father, 
mother,  brothers  and  sisters,  help  me  to  get  loose  !"  And  you  turn 
your  prayer  into  blasphemy  and  your  blasphemy  into  prayer,  and  to  all 
the  din  and  the  uproar  there  is  played  an  accompaniment — not  an  ac- 
companiment by  key  or  pedal,  but  an  accompaniment  of  a  rattle,  and 
that  rattle  is  the  rattle  of  a  chain.  For  five  years,  for  ten  years,  for 
1  twenty  years,  you  have  been  making  a  chain. 

THE    GREAT   EMANCIPATOR. 

But  here  I  step  higher,  and  I  tell  you  that  there  is  a  power  that 
can  break  any  chain — chain  of  body,  chain  of  mind,  chain  of  soul.  The 
fetters  that  the  hammer  of  the  Gospel  has  broken,  if  piled  together, 
would  make  a  mountain.  The  captives  whom  Christ  has  set  free,  if 
stood  together,  would  make  an  army.  Quicker  than  a  ship  chandler's 


THE  CHAIN  OF  INFLUENCES.  8g 

furnace  ever  melted  a  cable,  quicker  than  any  key  ever  unlocked  a 
handcuff,  quicker  than  the  bayonets  of  the  French  revolutionists  opened 
the  Bastile,  you  may  be  liberated  and  made  a  free  son  or  a  free  daugh- 
ter of  God.  Make  up  your  mind,  and  make  it  up  quick  !  When  the 
King  of  Sparta  had  crossed  the  Hellespont  and  was  about  to  march 
through  Thrace,  he  sent  word  to  the  people  of  the  different  regions, 
asking  whether  he  should  march  through  their  country  as  a  friend  or 
as  an  enemy.  "  By  all  means  as  a  friend,"  answered  most  of  them. 
But  the  King  of  Macedon  replied,  "I  will  take  time  to  consider  it." 
"Then,"  said  the  King  of  Sparta,  "let  him  consider  it ;  but  meantime 
we  march,  we  march."  So  Christ,  our  King,  gives  us  our  choice  be- 
tween his  friendship  and  his  frown,  and  many  of  us  have  long  been 
considering  what  we  had  better  do.  But  meantime,  He  marches  on, 
and  our  opportunities  are  marching  by.  And  we  shall  be  the  loving 
subjects  of  his  reign,  or  the  victims  of  our  own  obduracy.  So  I  urge 
upon  you  precipitancy,  rather  than  slow  deliberation,  and  I  write  all 
over  your  soul  the  words  of  Christ,  that  I  saw  inscribed  on  the  monu- 
ment of  Princess  Elizabeth,  on  the  Isle  of  Wight — the  words  to  which 
her  index  finger  pointed,  in  the  open  Bible,  when  she  was  found  dead 
in  her  bed,  after  a  lifetime  of  trouble — "  COME  UNTO  ME,  ALL  YE  WHO 

ARE  WEARY  AND  HEAVY  LADEN,  AND  I  WILL  GIVE  YOU  REST."    Is 

there  a  drunkard  here  ?  You  may,  by  the  Saviour's  grace,  have  that 
fire  of  thirst  utterly  extinguished.  Is  there  a  defrauder  here  ?  You 
may  be  made  a  saint  Is  there  a  libertine  here  ?  You  may  be  made 
as  pure  as  the  light. 

When  a  minister  in  an  out-door  meeting  in  Scotland  was  eulogizing 
goodness,  there  were  hanging  around  on  the  edge  of  the  audience 
some  of  the  most  depraved  men  and  women.  The  minister  said  nothing 
about  mercy  to  prodigals.  One  depraved  woman  cried  out,  "Your 
rope  is  not  long  enough  for  the  like  of  us."  Blessed  be  God,  our 
Gospel  can  fathom  the  deepest  depths,  and  reach  the  furthest  wan- 
derings, and  here  is  a  rope  that  is  long  enough  to  rescue  the  very 
worst — "whosoever  will."  But  why  take  extreme  cases,  when  we  all 
have  been,  or  are  now,  the  captives  of  sin  and  death  ?  We  may,  through 
the  Great  Emancipator,  take  a  throne  after  dropping  our  shackles. 
You  have  looked  on  your  hand  and  arm  only  as  being  useful,  and  a 
curious  piece  of  anatomy ;  but  there  is  something  about  your  hand  and 
arm  that  makes  me  think  that  they  are  only  an  undeveloped  wing. 


9°  THE  CHAIN  OF  INFLUENCES. 

If  you  would  like  to  know  what  possibilities  are  suggested  by  that,  ask 
the  eagle  that  has  looked  close  into  the  eye  of  the  noon-day  sun  ;  or 
ask  the  albatross  that  has  struck  its  claws  into  the  black  locks  of  the 
tempest ;  or  ask  the  condor  that  is  this  morning  ascending  up  to  the 
highest  peak  of  Chimborazo.  Your  right  hand  and  arm  and  you,  left 
hand  and  arm  are  two  undeveloped  wings — better  get  ready  for  the 
empyrean. 

"  Rise  my  soul  an  1  stretch  thy  wing, 
Thy  better  portion  trace." 

There  have  been  chains  famous  in  history,  such  as  fastened  the 
prisoner  of  Chillon  to  the  pillar, — into  the  staple  of  which  I  have  thrust 
my  hand, — on  the  isolated  rock  of  Lake  Geneva  ;  such  as  the  chain 
which  the  Russian  exile  clanks,  on  his  way  to  the  mines  of  Siberia ; 
such  as  the  chain  which  the  captive  Queen  Zenobia  wore,  when  brought 
into  the  presence  of  Aurelian.  Aye,  there  have  been  races  in  chains, 
and  nations  in  chains,  and  a  world  in  chains.  But  thank  God,  the  last 
one  will  be  broken,  and  under  the  liberating  power  of  the  Omnipotent 
Gospel  the  chains  shall  fall  from  the  last  neck,  and  the  last  arm,  and 
the  last  foot.  But  the  shattered  fetters  shall  all  be  gathered  up  again 
from  the  dungeons  and  the  workhouses  and  the  mines  and  the  rivers 
and  the  fields,  and  they  shall  be  welded  again,  and  again  strung,  link 
to  link,  and  polished  and  transformed,  until  this  world,  which  has  wan- 
dered off  and  been  a  recreant  world,  shall,  by  that  chain,  be  lifted  and 
hung  to  the  throne  of  God — no  longer  bound  by  the  iron  chain  of  op- 
pression, but  by  the  golden  chain  of  redeeming  love.  There  let  this 
old  ransomed  world  swing  forever.  Roll  on,  ye  years !  Roll  on,  ye 
days  !  Roll  on,  ye  hours,  and  hasten  the  glorious  consummation  ! 


THE   BEGGAR   LAZARUS   AT   THK   RICH    MAN'S   GATE 


91 


ABIGAIL   OFFERING   PRESENTS  ^O   DAVID. 


COMMON  PEOPLE 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


THE  vast  majority  of  people  will  never  lead  an  army,  will  nevei 
write  a  State  constitution,  will  never  electrify  a  Senate,  will 
never  make  an  important  invention,  will  never  introduce  a  new 
philosophy,  will  never  decide  the  fate  of  a  nation.  You  do  not  expect 
to ;  you  do  not  want  to.  You  will  not  be  a  Moses  to  lead  a  nation  out 
of  bondage.  You  will  not  be  a  Joshua  to  prolong  the  daylight  until 
you  can  shut  five  kings  in  a  cavern.  You  will  not  be  a  John  to  unroll 
an  Apocalypse.  You  will  not  be  a  Paul  to  preside  over  an  apostolic 
college.  You  will  not  be  a  Mary  to  mother  a  Christ.  You  will  more 
probably  be  Asyncritus,  or  Phlegon,  or  Hermas,  or  Patrobas,  or 
Hermes,  or  Philologus,  or  Julia. 

Many  of  you  are  women  at  the  head  of  households.  Every 
morning  you  plan  for  the  day.  The  culinary  department  of  the  house- 
hold is  in  your  dominion.  You  decide  all  questions  of  diet.  All  the 
sanitary  regulations  of  your  house  are  under  your  supervision.  To 
regulate  the  food,  and  the  apparel,  and  the  habits,  and  to  decide  the 
thousand  questions  of  home  life,  are  a  tax  upon  brain  and  nerve  and 
general  health  absolutely  appalling,  if  there  be  no  divine  alleviation. 

It  does  not  help  you  much  to  be  told  that  Elizabeth  Fry  did  won- 
derful things  amid  the  criminals  at  Newgate.  It  does  not  help  you  much 
to  be  told  that  Mrs.  Judson  was  very  brave  among  the  Bornesian  can- 
nibals. It  does  not  help  you  much  to  be  told  that  Florence  Night- 
ingale was  very  kind  to  the  wounded  in  the  Crimea.  It  would  be  better 
to  tell  you  that  the  divine  friend  of  Mary  and  Martha  is  your  friend, 
and  that  He  sees  all  the  annoyances  and  disappointments,  and  the  ab- 
rasions and  exasperations  of  an  ordinary  housekeeper  from  morn  till 
night,  and  from  the  first  day  of  the  year  to  the.  last  day  of  the  year, 
and  that  at  your  call  He  is  ready  with  help  and  reinforcement. 

93 


44  COMMON  PEOPLE. 

They  who  provide  the  food  of  the  world  decide  the  health  of  the 
world.  One  of  the  greatest  battles  of  this  century  was  lost  because 
the  commander  that  morning  had  a  fit  of  indigestion.  You  have  only 
to  go  on  some  errand  amid  the  taverns  and  the  hotels  of  the  United 
States  and  Great  Britain  to  appreciate  the  fact,  that  a  vast  multitude  of 
the  human  race  are  slaughtered  by  incompetent  cookery.  Though  a 
young  woman  may  have  taken  lessons  in  music,  and  lessons  in  paint- 
ing, and  lessons  in  astronomy,  she  is  not  well  educated  unless  she  has 
taken  lessons  in  dough  !  They  who  decide  the  apparel  cf  the  world, 
and  the  food  of  the  world,  decide  the  endurance  of  the  world. 

BUSINESS    MEN. 

When  we  begin  to  talk  about  business  life,  we  shoot  right  off  and 
talk  about  men  who  did  business  on  a  large  scale,  and  who  sold  millions 
of  dollars  of  goods  a  year ;  but  the  vast  majority  of  business  men  do 
not  sell  a  million  dollars  of  goods,  nor  half  a  million,  nor  the  quarter 
of  a  million,  nor  the  eighth  part  of  a  million.  Put  all  the  business  men 
of  our  cities,  towns,  villages,  and  neighborhoods  side  by  side,  and  you 
will  find  that  their  average  sale  is  less  than  fifty  thousand  dollars  worth 
of  goods.  All  these  men  in  ordinary  business  life  want  divine  help. 
You  see  how  wrinkles  are  printing  on  their  countenances  the  story  of 
worriment  and  care.  You  cannot  tell  how  old  a  business  man  is  by 
looking  at  him.  Gray  hairs  at  thirty !  A  man  at  forty-five  with  the 
stoop  of  a  nonagenarian  !  No  time  to  attend  to  improved  dentistry— 
the  grinders  cease  because  they  are  few.  Actually  dying  of  old  age  at 
forty  or  fifty,  when  they  ought  to  be  at  life's  meridian.  Many  of  these 
business  men  have  bodies  like  a  neglected  clock,  to  which  you  come 
and  wind  it  up,  and  it  begins  to  buzz  and  roar,  and  then  the  hands 
start  around  very  rapidly,  and  then  the  clock  strikes  five,  or  ten,  or 
forty,  and  strikes  without  any  sense,  and  then  suddenly  stops.  So  is 
the  body  of  that  worn-out  business  man.  It  is  a  neglected  clock,  and 
though  by  some  summer  recreation  it  may  be  wound  up,  still  the 
machinery  is  all  out  of  gear. 

Post-mortem  examination  reveals  the  fact  that  all  the  springs,  and 
pivots,  and  weights,  and  balance-wheels  of  health  are  completely  de- 
ranged. The  human  clock  is  simply  run  down.  And  at  the  time 
when  the  steady  hand  ought  to  be  pointing  to  the  industrious  hours  on 
a  clear  and  sunlit  dial,  the  whole  machinery  of  body,  mind,  and  earthly 


COMMON  PL  OPLE.  95 

capacity  stops  forever.  Greenwood  has  thousands  of  New  York  and 
Brooklyn  business  men  who  died  of  old  age  at  thirty,  thirty-five,  forty, 
forty-five. 

Come,  now,  let  us  have  a  religion  for  ordinary  people  in  profes- 
sions, in  occupations,  in  agriculture,  in  the  household,  in  merchandise, 
in  everything.  I  salute  across  the  centuries  Asyncritus,  Phlegon,  Her- 
nias, Patrobas,  Hermes,  Philologus,  and  Julia. 

First  of  all,  if  you  feel  that  you  are  ordinary,  thank  God  that  you 
are  not  extraordinary.  I  am  tired  and  sick  and  bored  almost  to  death  with 
extraordinary  people.  They  take  all  their  time  to  tell  us  how  very 
extraordinary  they  really  are.  You  know  as  well  as  I  do,  my  brother 
and  sister,  that  the  most  of  the  useful  work  of  the  world  is  done  by 
unpretentious  people  who  toil  right  on — by  people  who  do  not 
get  much  approval,  and  no  one  seems  to  say,  "That  is  well  done." 
Phenomena  are  of  but  little  use.  Things  that  are  exceptional  cannot  be 
depended  on.  Better  trust  the  smallest  planet  that  swings  in  its  orbit 
than  ten  comets  shooting  this  way  and  that,  imperilling  the  longevity 
of  worlds  that  are  attending  to  their  own  business.  For  steady  illumi- 
nation a  lamp  is  better  than  a  rocket. 

Then,  if  you  feel  that  you  are  ordinary,  remember  that  your  posi- 
tion invites  the  less  attack.  Conspicuous  people — how  they  have  to 
take  it !  How  they  are  misrepresented,  and  abused,  and  shot  at !  The 
higher  the  horns  of  a  roebuck  the  easier  to  track  him  down.  What  a 
delicious  thing  it  must  be  to  be  a  candidate  for  President  of  the  United 
States  !  It  must  be  so  soothing  to  the  nerves  !  It  must  pour  into  the 
soul  of  a  candidate  such  a  sense  of  serenity  when  he  reads  the  blessed 
newspapers ! 

THE    CURSE    OF    HIGH    POSITION. 

I  came  into  the  possession  of  the  abusive  cartoons  in  the  time  of 
Napoleon  I.,  printed  while  he  was  yet  alive.  The  retreat  of  the  army 
from  Moscow — that  army  buried  in  the  snows  of  Russia,  one  of  the 
most  awful  tragedies  of  the  centuries — is  represented  under  the  figure 
of  a  monster  called  General  Frost,  who  is  shaving  the  French  Emperor 
with  a  razor  of  icicle.  As  Satyr  and  Beelzebub  he  is  represented,  page 
after  page,  page  after  page.  England  cursing  him,  Spain  cursing  him, 
Germany  cursing  him,  Russia  cursing  him,  Europe  cursing  him,  North. 
and  South  America  cursing  him.  The  most  remarkable  man  of  his 


g6  COMMON  PEOPLE. 

day,  and  the  most  abused.     All  those  men  in  history  who  now  have  a 
halo  around  their  name,  once  wore  a  crown  of  thorns. 

At  an  anniversary  of  a  deaf  and  dumb  asylum,  one  of  the  children 
wrote  upon  the  blackboard  words  as  sublime  as  the  Iliad,  the  Odyssey, 
and  the  Divina  Comedia,  all  compressed  into  one  paragraph.  The 
examiner,  in  the  signs  of  the  mute  language,  asked  her,  "Who  made 
the  world?"  The  deaf  and  dumb  girl  wrote  upon  the  blackboard,  "In 
the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth."  The  examiner 
asked  her,  "For  what  purpose  did  Christ  come  into  the  world?"  The 
deaf  and  dumb  girl  wrote  upon  the  blackboard,  "This  is  a  faithful 
saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the 
world  to  save  sinners."  The  examiner  said  to  her,  "Why  were  you 
born  deaf  and  dumb,  while  I  hear  and  speak?"  She  wrote  upon  the 
blackboard,  "  Even  so,  Father  ;  for  so  it  seemeth  good  in  Thy  sight." 
Oh,  that  we  might  be  baptized  with  a  contented  spirit !  The  spider 
draws  poison  out  of  a  flower,  the  bee  gets  honey  out  of  a  thistle  ;  but 
happiness  is  a  heavenly  elixir,  and  the  contented  spirit  extracts  it,  not 
from  the  rhododendron  of  the  hills,  but  from  the  lily  of  the  valley. 

STITCH,    STITCH,    STITCH. 

History  has  told  the  story  of  the  crown.  The  epic  poet  has  sung 
of  the  sword.  The  pastoral  poet,  with  his  verses  full  of  the  redolence 
of  clover-tops  and  rustling  with  the  silk  of  the  corn,  has  sung  the 
praises  of  the  plough.  I  sing  the  praises  of  the  needle.  From  the  fig-leaf 
of  robes  prepared  in  the  Garden  of  Eden  to  the  last  stitch  taken,  the 
needle  has  wrought  wonders  of  generosity,  kindness,  and  benefaction. 
It  adorned  the  girdle  of  the  High  Priest ;  it  cushioned  the  chariot  of 
King  Solomon  ;  it  provided  the  robes  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  in  high 
places  and  in  low  places,  by  the  fire  of  the  pioneer's  back  log,  and 
under  the  flash  of  the  chandelier — everywhere  it  has  clothed  nakedness, 
it  has  preached  the  Gospel,  it  has  overcome  hosts  of  penury  and  want 
with  the  war-cry  of  "  Stitch  !  stitch  !  stitch  !" 

Dorcas  was  a  representative  of  all  those  women  who  make  gar- 
ments for  the  destitute,  who  knit  socks  for  the  barefooted,  who  prepare 
bandages  for  the  lacerated,  who  fix  up  boxes  of  clothing  for  Western 
missionaries,  who  go  into  the  asylums  of  the  suffering  and  destitute, 
bearing  that  Gospel  which  is  sieht  for  the  blind,  and  hearing  for  the 


THE    HARVEST   TIME. 


n 8  COMMON  PEOPLE. 

deaf,  and  which  makes  the  lame  man  leap  like  a  hart,  and  brings  the 
dead  to  life,  immortal  health  bounding  in  their  pulses. 

What  a  contrast  between  the  practical  benevolence  of  this  woman 
and  a  oreat  deal  of  the  charity  of  this  day  !  This  woman  did  not  spend 
her  time  idly  planning  how  the  poor  of  Joppa  were  to  be  relieved  ;  she 
took  her  needle  and  relieved  them.  She  was  not  like  those  persons 
who  sympathize  with  imaginary  sorrows,  and  go  out  in  the  street  and 
laugh  at  the  boy  who  has  upset  his  basket  of  cold  victuals  ;  or  like  that 
charity  which  makes  a  rousing  speech  on  the  benevolent  platform,  and 
goes  out  to  kick  the  beggar  from  the  step,  crying,  "  Hush  your  miser- 
able howling!"  The  sufferers  of  the  world  want  not  so  much  theory 
as  practice  ;  not  so  much  tears  as  dollars ;  not  so  much  kind  wishes  as 
loaves  of  bread;  not  so  much  smiles  as  shoes;  not  so  much  "God 
bless  yous"  as  jackets  and  frocks. 

I  suppose  you  have  read  of  the  fact  that  when  Josephine  was  car- 
ried out  to  her  grave  there  were  a  great  many  men  and  women  of 
pomp,  and  pride,  and  position,  that  went  out  after  her  ;  but  I  am  most 
affected  by  the  story  of  history,  that  on  that  day  there  were  ten! 
thousand  of  the  poor  of  France  who  followed  her  coffin,  weeping  and 
wailing  until  the  air  rang  again,  because  when  they  lost  Josephine  they 
lost  their  last  earthly  friend.  Oh,  who  would  not  rather  have  such 
obsequies  than  all  the  tears  that  were  ever  poured  in  the  lachrymals 
that  have  been  exhumed  from  ancient  cities  ? 

There  may  be  no  mass  for  the  dead  ;  there  may  be  no  costly  sar- 
cophagus ;  there  may  be  no  elaborate  mausoleum  ;  but  in  the  damp 
cellars  of  the  city,  and  through  the  lonely  huts  of  the  mountain  glen, 
there  will  be  mourning,  mourning,  mourning,  because  Dorcas  is  dead. 
"  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord  ;  they  rest  from  their  labors, 
and  their  works  do  follow  them." 

Oh,  yes,  God  has  a  sympathy  with  anybody  that  is  in  any  kind  of 
toil!  He  knows  how  heavy  is  the  hod  of  bricks  that  the  workman 
carries  up  the  ladder  of  the  wall ;  He  hears  the  pickaxe  of  the  miner 
down  in  the  coal-shaft ;  He  'knows  how  strongly  the  tempest  strikes  the 
sailor  at  the  masthead  ;  He  sees  the  factory  girl  among  the  spindles, 
and  knows  how  her  arms  ache  ;  He  sees  the  sewing  woman  in  the 
fourth  story,  and  knows  how  few  pence  she  gets  for  making  a  garment ; 
and  louder  than  all  the  din  and  roar  of  the  city  comes  the  voice  of  a 
sympathetic  God. 


COMMON  PEOPLE.  99 

A  clergyman  of  the  Unlversalist  Church  went  into  a  neighborhood 
for  the  establishment  of  a  church  of  his  denomination,  and  he  was 
anxious  to  find  some  one  of  that  denomination,  and  he  was  pointed  to 
a  certain  house,  and  went  there.  He  said  to  the  man  of  the  house, 
"  I  understand  you  are  a  Universalist ;  I  want  you  to  help  me  in  the 
enterprise."  "Well,"  said  the  man,  "I  am  a  Universalist,  but  I  have 
a  peculiar  kind  of  Universalism."  "  What  is  that?"  asked  the  minister. 
"  Well,"  replied  the  other,  "I  have  been  out  in  the  world,  and  I  have 
been  cheated,  and  slandered,  and  outraged,  and  abused,  until  I  believe 
in  universal  damnation  /  " 

The  great  danger  is  that  men  will  become  cynical,  and  given  to 
believe,  as  David  was  tempted  to  say,  that  "all  men  are  liars."  Now, 
if  you  have  come  across  ill-treatment,  let  me  tell  you  that  you  are  in 
excellent  company — Christ,  and  Luther,  and  Galileo,  and  Columbus, 
and  John  Jay,  and  Josiah  Quincy,  and  thousands  of  men  and  women, 
the  best  spirits  of  earth  and  heaven.  Budge  not  one  inch,  though  all 
hell  wreak  upon  you  its  vengeance,  and  you  be  made  a  target  for  devils 
to  shoot  at.  Do  you  not  think  that  Christ  knows  all  about  persecution  ? 
Was  He  not  hissed  at?  Was  He  not  struck  on  the  cheek?  Was  He 
not  pursued  all  the  days  of  his  life  ?  Did  they  not  expectorate  upon 
Him?  Or,  to  put  it  in  Bible  language,  "They  spit  upon  Him."  And 
cannot  He  understand  what  persecution  is?  "  Cast  thy  burden  upon 
the  Lord,  and  He  shall  sustain  thee." 

"  Labor  is  rest — from  the  sorrows  that  greet  us ; 
Rest  from  all  petty  vexations  that  meet  us ; 
Rest  from  sin  promptings  that  ever  entreat  us ; 

Rest  from  world  sirens  that  lure  us  to  ill. 
Work — and  pure  slumbers  shall  wait  on  thy  pillow; 
Work — thou  shalt  ride  over  Care's  coming  billow ; 
Lie  not  down  wearied  'neath  Woe's  weeping  willow, 
Work  with  a  stout  heart  and  resolute  will !" 


PICTURE 
GALLERY  OB  THE  STREET 

BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


WE  are  all  ready  to  listen  to  the  voices  of  nature  ;  but  how  few  of 
us  learn  anything  from  the  voices  of  the  noisy  and  dusty 
street?  You  go  to  your  merchandise,  and  your  mechanism, 
and  your  work,  and  you  come  back  again — and  often  with  an  in- 
different heart  you  pass  through  the  streets.  Are  there  no  things  for 
us  to  learn  from  these  pavements  over  which  we  pass  ?  Are  there  no 
tufts  of  truth  growing  up  between  these  cobblestones,  beaten  with  the 
feet  of  toil,  and  pain,  and  pleasure,  the  slow  tread  of  old  age,  and  the 
quick  step  of  childhood  ?  Aye,  there  are  great  harvests  to  be  reaped  ; 
and  now  I  thrust  in  the  sickle  because  the  harvest  is  ripe  "Wisdom 
crieth  without ;  she  uttereth  her  voice  in  the  streets." 

LIFE    FULL   OF    LABOR. 

In  the  first  place,  the  street  impresses  me  with  the  fact  that  this  life 
is  a  scene  of  toil  and  struggle.  By  ten  o'clock  every  day  the  city  is 
jarring  with  wheels,  and  shuffling  with  feet,  and  humming  with  voices, 
and  covered  with  the  breath  of  smokestacks,  and  a-rush  with  traffickers. 
Once  in  a  while  you  find  a  man  going  along  with  folded  arms  and  with 
leisurely  step,  as  though  he  had  nothing  to  do  ;  but  for  the  most  part, 
as  you  find  men  going  down  these  streets  on  the  way  to  business,  there 
is  anxiety  in  their  faces,  as  though  they  had  some  errand  which  must 
be  executed  at  the  first  possible  moment.  You  are  jostled  by  those 
who  have  bargains  to  make  and  notes  to  sell.  Up  this  ladder  with  a 
hod  of  bricks,  out  of  this  bank  with  a  roll  of  bills,  on  this  dray  with  a 
load  of  goods,  digging  a  cellar,  or  shingling  a  roof,  or  shoeing  a  horse; 
or  building  a  wall,  or  mending  a  watch,  or  binding  a  book.  Industry, 
with  her  thousand  arms,  and  thousand  eyes,  and  thousand  feet,  goes 


100 


PICTURE-GALLERY  OF  THE  STREET.  101 

on  singing  her  song  of  "work  !    work  !    work!  "  while  the  mills  drum 

it  and  the  steam  whistles  fife  it.     All  this  is  not  because  men  love  toil. 

Some  one  remarked,    "Every  man  is  as  lazy  as  he  can  afford  to  be." 

It  is  because  necessity,  with  stern  brow  and  with  uplifted  whip,  stands 

over  them  ready,  whenever  they  relax  their  toil,  to  make  their  shoulders 

sting  with  the  lash.     Can  it  be  that,  passing  up  and  down  these  streets 

on  your  way  to  work  and  business,  you  do  not  learn   anything  of  the 

world's  toil,   and  anxiety,   and  struggle  ?     Oh,    how  many  drooping 

hearts,  how  many  eyes  on  the  watch,   how  many  miles  traveled,  how 

many  burdens  carried,  how  many  losses  incurred,   how  many  battles 

fought,   how  many  victories  gained,   how  many  defeats  suffered,   how 

many  exasperations  endured,  what  losses,   what  wretchedness,   what 

pallor,  what  disease,  what  agony,  what  despair !     Sometimes  I  have 

stopped  at  the  corner  of  the  street  as  the  multitudes  went  hither  and 

yon,  and  it  has  seemed  to  be  a  great  pantomime.    As  I  looked  upon  it 

my  heart  broke.     This  great  tide  of  human  life  that  goes  down  the 

street  is  a  rapid,  tossed  and  turned  aside,   and  dashing  ahead,   and 

driven  back — beautiful   in  its  confusion,   and  confused  in  its  beauty. 

In  the  carpeted  aisles  of  the  forest,  in  the  woods  from  which  the  eternal 

shadow  is  never  lifted,  on  the  shore  of  the  sea  over  whose  iron  coast 

tosses  the  tangled  foam,  sprinkling  the  cracked  cliffs  with  a  baptism  of 

whirlwind  and  tempest,   is  the  best  place  to   study  God ;    but  in  the 

rushing,  swarming,  raving  street  is  the  best  place  to  study  man.    Going 

down  to  your  place  of  business  and  coming  home  again,  I  charge  you 

to  look  about,  to  see  these  signs  of  poverty,  of  wretchedness,  of  hunger, 

of  sin,  of  bereavement — and  as  you  go  through  the  streets,  and  come 

back  through  the  streets,  to  gather  up  in  the  arms  of  your  prayer  all  the 

sorrow,  all  the  losses,  all  the  suffering,  all  the  bereavements  of  those 

whom  you  pass,  and  present  them  in  prayer  before  an  all-sympathetic 

God.     Then  in  the  great  day  of  eternity  there  will  be  thousands  of 

persons,  with  whom  you  in  this  world  never  exchanged  one  word,  who 

will  rise  up  and  call  you  blessed ;  and  there  will  be  a  thousand  fingers 

pointed  at  you  in  heaven,  saying  :  "That  is  the  man,  that  is  the  woman, 

who  helped  me  when  I  was  hungry,  and  sick,  and  wandering,  and  lost, 

and  heart-broken.     That  is  the  man,   that   is  the  woman;"  and  the 

blessing  will  come  down  upon  you  as  Christ  shall  say :   "  I  was  hungry 

and  ye  fed  me,  I  was  naked  and  ye  clothed  me,  I  was  sick  and  in  prison 


VANITY. 


102 


PICTURE-GALLERY  OF  THE  STREET.  103 

and  ye  visited  me  ;  inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  to  these  poor  waifs  of  the 
street,  ye  did  it  to  me." 

ALL    CLASSES    COMMINGLE. 

Again,  the  street  impresses  me  with  the  fact  that  all  classes  and 
conditions  of  society  must  commingle.  We  sometimes  cultivate  a 
wicked  exclusiveness.  Intellect  despises  ignorance.  Refinement  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  boorishness.  Gloves  hate  the  sunburned 
hand,  and  the  high  forehead  despises  the  flat  head.  The  trim  hedge- 
row will  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  wild  copsewood,  and  Athens  hates 
Nazareth.  This  ought  not  to  be.  The  astronomer  must  come  down 
from  his  starry  revery,  and  help  us  in  our  navigation.  The  surgeon 
must  come  away  from  his  study  of  the  human  organism,  and  set  our 
broken  bones.  The  chemist  must  come  away  from  his  laboratory,' 
where  he  has  been  studying  analysis  and  synthesis,  and  help  us  to  un- 
derstand the  nature  of  the  soils.  I  bless  God  that  all  classes  of  people 
are  compelled  to  meet  on  the  street.  The  glittering  coach-wheel 
clashes  against  the  scavenger's  cart.  Fine  robes  run  against  the 
peddler's  pack.  Robust  health  meets  wan  sickness.  Honesty  confronts 
fraud.  Every  class  of  people  meets  every  other  class.  Independence 
and  modesty,  pride  and  humility,  purit^  and  beastliness,  frankness  and 
hypocrisy,  meet  in  the  same  city,  in  the  same  street,  on  the  same  block. 
That  is  what  Solomon  meant  when  he  said :  "  The  rich  and  the  poor 
meet  together  ;  the  Lord  is  the  maker  of  them  all."  I  like  this  demo- 
cratic principle  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  which  recognizes  the 
fact  that  we  stand  before  God  on  one  and  the  same  platform.  Do  not 
take  on  any  airs  ;  whatever  position  you  have  gained  in  society,  you 
are  nothing  but  a  man,  born  of  the  same  parent,  regenerated  by  the 
same  Spirit,  cleansed  in  the  same  blood,  to  lie  down  in  the  same  dust, 
to  get  up  in  the  same  resurrection.  It  is  high  time  that  we  all  acknowl- 
edged not  only  the  Fatherhood  of  God,  but  the  brotherhood  of  man. 

STREET   TEMPTATIONS. 

Again,  the  street  impresses  me  with  the  fact  that  it  is  a  very  hard 
thing  for  a  man  to  keep  his  heart  right  and  to  get  to  heaven.  Infinite 
temptations  spring  upon  us  from  these  places  of  public  concourse. 
Amid  so  much  affluence,  how  much  temptation  to  covetousness  and  to 
discontent  with  our  humble  lot.  Amid  so  many  opportunities  for  over- 
reaching, what  temptation  to  extortion.  Amid  so  much  display,  what 


104  PICTURE-GALLERY  OF  THE  STREET. 

temptation  to  vanity.  Amid  so  many  saloons  of  strong  drink,  what 
allurement  to  dissipation.  In  the  maelstrom  of  the  street,  how  many 
make  quick  and  eternal  shipwreck.  If  a  man-of-war  comes  back  from  a 
battle  and  is  towed  into  the  navy  yard,  we  go  down  to  look  at  the 
splintered  spars  and  count  the  bullet  holes,  and  look  with  patriotic  ad- 
miration on  the  flag  that  floated  in  victory  from  the  mast-head.  But 
that  man  is  more  of  a  curiosity  who  has  gone  through  thirty  years  of 
the  sharp-shooting  of  business  life,  and  yet  sails  on,  victor  over  the 
temptations  of  the  street.  Oh,  how  many  have  gone  down  under  the 
pressure,  leaving  not  so  much  as  a  patch  of  canvas  to  tell  where  they 
perished !  They  never  had  any  peace.  Their  dishonesties  kept  tolling 
in  their  ears.  If  I  had  an  axe,  and  could  split  open  the  beams  of  that 
fine  house,  perhaps  I  would  find  in  the  very  heart  of  it  a  skeleton. 
In  its  very  best  wine  there  is  a  smack  of  the  poor  man's  sweat.  Oh  ! 
is  it  strange  that  \vhen  a  man  has  devoured  widows'  houses  he  is  dis- 
turbed with  indigestion  ?  All  the  forces  of  nature  are  against  him. 
The  floods  are  ready  to  drown  him,  and  the  earthquake  to  swallow  him, 
and  the  fires  to  consume  him,  and  the  lightnings  to  smite  him.  But  the 
children  of  God  are  on  every  street,  and  in  the  day  when  the  crowns 
of  heaven  are  distributed,  sorrys  of  the  brightest  of  them  will  be  given 
to  those  men  who  were  faithful  to  God  and  faithful  to  the  souls  of  others 
amid  the  marts  of  business,  proving  themselves  the  heroes  of  the  street 
Mighty  were  their  temptations,  mighty  was  their  deliverance,  and 
mighty  shall  be  their  triumph. 

THE    SHAMS   OF    LIFE. 

Again,  the  street  impresses  me  with  the  fact  that  life  is  full  of  pre- 
tension and  sham.  What  subterfuge,  what  double  dealing,  what  two- 
facedness  !  Do  all  people  who  wish  you  good  morning  really  hope  for 
you  a  happy  day  ?  Do  all  the  people  who  shake  hands  love  each  other  ? 
Are  all  those  anxious  about  your  health  who  inquire  concerning  it? 
Do  all  want  to  see  you  who  ask  you  to  call  ?  Does  all  the  world  know 
half  as  much  as  it  pretends  to  know  ?  Is  there  not  many  a  wretched 
stock  of  goods  with  a  brilliant  show-window?  Passing  up  and  down 
these  streets  to  your  business  and  your  work,  are  you  not  impressed 
with  the  fact  that  much  of  society  is  hollow,  and  that  there  are  subter- 
fuges and  pretensions  ?  Oh  !  how  many  there  are  who  swagger  and 
strut,  and  how  few  people  who  are  natural  and  walk.  While  fops 


PICTURE-GALLERY  OF  THE  STREET.  105 

simper,  and  fools  chuckle,  and  simpletons  giggle,  how  few  people  are 
natural  and  laugh.  The  courtesan  and  the  libertine  go  down  the  street 
in  beautiful  apparel,  while  within  the  heart  there  are  volcanoes  of  pas- 
sion consuming  their  lives  away.  I  say  these  things  not  to  create  in  you 
incredulity  or  misanthropy,  nor  do  I  forget  that  there  are  thousands  of 
people  a  great  deal  better  than  they  seem  ;  but  I  do  not  think  any  man 
is  prepared  for  the  conflicts  of  this  life  until  he  knows  this  particular 
peril.  Ehud  comes  pretending  to  pay  his  tax  to  King  Eglon,  and  while 
he  stands  in  front  of  the  king,  stabs  him  through  with  a  dagger  until 
the  haft  goes  in  after  the  blade.  Judas  Iscariot  kissed  Christ. 

A    FIELD    FOR    CHARITY. 

Again,  the  street  impresses  me  with  the  fact  that  it  is  a  great  field 
for  Christian  charity.  There  are  hunger  and  suffering,  and  want  and 
wretchedness,  in  the  country  ;  but  these  evils  chiefly  congregate  in  our 
great  cities.  On  every  street  crime  prowls,  and  drunkenness  staggers, 
and  shame  winks,  and  pauperism  thrusts  out  its  hand  asking  for  alms. 
Here  want  is  most  squalid  and  hunger  is  most  lean.  A  Christian  man, 
going  along  a  street  in  New  York,  saw  a  poor  lad,  and  he  stopped  and 
said,  "  My  boy,  do  you  know  how  to  read  and  write  ?"  The  boy  made 
no  answer.  The  man  asked  the  question  twice  and  thrice  :  "  Can  you 
read  and  write?"  and  then  the  boy  answered,  with  a  tear  plashing  on 
the  back  of  his  hand,  in  a  tone  of  defiance  :  "  No,  sir  ;  I  can't  read  nor 
write,  neither.  God,  sir,  don't  want  me  to  read  and  write.  Didn't  He 
take  away  my  father  so  long  ago  I  never  remember  to  have  seen  him  ? 
and  haven't  I  had  to  go  a^ng  the  streets  to  get  something  to  fetch 
home  to  eat  for  the  folks  ?  and  didn't  I,  as  soon  as  I  could  carry  a 
basket,  have  to  go  out  and  pick  up  cinders,  and  never  have  no  school- 
ing, sir?  God  don't  want  me  to  read,  sir;  I  can't  read,  nor  write 
neither."  Oh,  these  poor  wanderers  !  They  have  no  chance.  Born 
in  degradation,  as  they  get  up  from  their  hands  and  knees  to  walk, 
they  take  their  first  step  on  the  road  to  despair.  Let  us  go  forth  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  rescue  them.  If  you  are  not 
willing  to  go  forth  yourself,  then  give  of  your  means  ;  and  if  you  are 
too  lazy  to  go,  and  if  you  are  too  stingy  to  help,  then  get  out  of  the 
way,  and  hide  yourself  in  the  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  lest,  when 
Christ's  chariot  comes  along,  the  horses'  hoofs  trample  you  in  the  mire. 
Beware  lest  the  thousands  of  the  destitute  of  your  city,  in  the  last 
great  day,  rise  up  and  curse  your  stupidity  and  your  neglect. 


HEROES  AND  HEROINES 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


HISTORIANS  are  not  slow  to  acknowledge  the  merits  of  great 
military  chieftains.  We  have  the  full-length  portraits  of  the 
Baldwins,  the  Cromwells,  and  the  Marshal  Neys  of  the  world. 
History  is  not  written  in  black  ink,  but  with  the  red  ink  of  human 
blood.  The  gods  of  human  ambition  did  not  drink  from  bowls  made 
out  of  silver,  or  gold,  or  precious  stones,  but  out  of  the  bleached 
skulls  of  the  fallen.  But  I  wish  to  unroll  before  you  a  scroll  of  heroes 
whom  the  world  has  never  acknowledged  ;  who  faced  no  guns,  blew 
no  bugle-blast,  conquered  no  cities,  chained  no  captives  to  their  chariot- 
wheels,  and  yet,  in  the  great  day  of  eternity,  will  stand  higher  than 
those  whose  names  startled  the  nations,  while  seraph  and  rapt  spirit 
and  archangel  will  tell  their  deeds  to  a  listening  universe.  I  mean  the 
heroes  of  common,  every-day  life. 

SICK-ROOM    HEROES. 

In  this  roll  may  be  placed  all  the  heroes  of  the  sick-room.  When 
Satan  had  failed  to  overcome  Job,  he  said  to  God,  "  Put  forth  thy 
hand  and  touch  his  bone  and  flesh,  and  he  will  curse  thee  to  thy  face." 
Satan  had  found  out  what  we  have  all  found  out,  that  sickness  is  the 
greatest  test  of  character.  A  man  who  can  stand  that  can  stand  any- 
thing : — to  be  shut  in  a  room  as  fast  as  though  it  were  a  Bastile  ;  to  be 
So  nervous  that  you  cannot  endure  the  tap  of  a  child's  foot;  to  have 
luxuriant  fruit,  which  tempts  the  appetite  of  the  robust  and  healthy, 
excite  your  loathing  and  disgust  when  it  appears  on  the  platter ;  to 
have  the  rapier  of  pain  strike  through  the  side  or  across  the  temples 
like  a  razor ;  or  to  put  the  foot  into  a  vise  ;  or  to  throw  the  whole  body 
into  the  blaze  of  a  fever.  Yet  there  have  been  men  and  women,  but 
more  women  than  men,  who  have  cheerfully  endured  this  hardness, 
1 06 


HEROES  AND  HEROINES.  -07 

Through  years  of  exhausting  rheumatisms  and  excruciating  neuralgias 
they  have  gone ;  and  through  bodily  distresses  that  rasped  the 
nerves,  and  tore  the  muscles,  and  paled  the  cheeks,  and  stooped  the 
shoulders.  By  the  dim  light  of  the  sick-room  taper  they  saw  on 
their  wall  the  picture  of  that  land  where  the  people  are  never  sick. 
Through  the  dead  silence  of  the  night  they  heard  the  chorus  of 
the  angels. 

Those  who  suffered  on  the  battle-field,  amid  shot  and  shell,  were 
not  so  much  heroes  and  heroines  as  those  who  in  the  field-hospital  and 
in  the  asylum  had  fevers  which  no  ice  could  cool  and  no  surgeon  could 
cure.  No  shout  of  comrade  to  cheer  them,  but  numbness  and  aching 
and  homesickness — yet  willing  to  suffer,  confident  in  God,  hopeful  of 
heaven.  Heroes  of  rheumatism,  heroes  of  neuralgia,  heroes  of  spinal 
complaint,  heroes  of  sick  headache,  heroes  of  life-long  invalidism, 
heroes  and  heroines,  they  shall  reign  forever  and  forever.  Hark !  I 
catch  just  one  note  of  the  eternal  anthem,  "There  shall  be  no  more 
pain,"  Bless  God  for  that ! 

DOMESTIC    HEROES. 

In  this  roll  I  find  the  heroes  who  have-  uncomplainingly  endured 
omestic  injustice.  There  are  men  who  for  their  toil  and  anxiety  have 
o  sympathy  in  their  homes.  Exhausting  application  to  business  gets 
them  a  livelihood,  but  an  unfrugal  wife  scatters  it.  The  husband  is 
fretted  at  from  the  moment  he  enters  the  door  until  he  goes  out  of  it — 
the  exasperations  of  business  life  augmented  by  the  exasperations  of 
domestic  life.  Such  men  are  laughed  at,  but  they  have  a  heart-break- 
ing trouble,  and  they  would  have  long  ago  gone  into  appalling  dissipa- 
tion but  for  the  grace  of  God.  Society  to-day  is  strewn  with  the  wrecks 
of  men  who  under  the  northeast  storm  of  domestic  infelicity  have  been 
driven  on  the  rocks.  There  are  tens  of  thousands  of  drunkards  in  this 
country  to-day  who  were  made  such  by  their  wives.  That  is  not 
poetry  ;  that  is  prose. 

But  the  wrong  is  generally  in  the  opposite  direction.  You  would 
not  have  to  go  far  to  find  a  wife  whose  life  is  a  perpetual  martyrdom- 
suffering  from  something  heavier  than  a  stroke  of  the  fist — unkind 
words,  staggerings  home  at  midnight,  and  constant  maltreatment,  which 
have  left  her  only  a  wreck  of  what  she  was  on  that  day  when,  in  the 
midst  of  a  brilliant  assemblage,  the  vows  were  taken,  and  the  full  organ 


T 08  HER  OES  AND  HER  OTNES. 

played  the  wedding  march,  and  the  carriage  rolled  away  with  the  ben- 
ediction of  the  people. 

What  was  the  burning  of  Latimer  and  Ridley  at  the  stake  com- 
pared with  this  ?  Those  men  soon  became  unconscious  in  the  fire,  but 
here  is  a  fifty  years'  martyrdom,  a  fifty  years'  putting  to  death,  yet 
borne  uncomplainingly.  No  bitter  words  when  rollicking  companions 
at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  pitch  the  husband,  dead  drunk,  on  the 
stoop  ;  no  bitter  words  when  wiping  from  the  swollen  brow  the  blood 
struck  out  in  a  midnight  carousal,  or  bending  over  the  battered  and 
bruised  form  of  him  who,  when  he  took  her  from  her  father's  home, 
promised  love  and  kindness  and  protection  ;  nothing  but  sympathy, 
and  prayers,  and  forgiveness  before  it  is  asked.  No  bitter  words  when 
the  family  Bible  goes  for  rum,  and  the  pawnbroker's  shop  gets  the  last 
decent  dress. 

PHILANTHROPIC     HEROES. 

I  find  also  in  this  roll  the  heroes  of  Christian  charity.  We  all 
admire  the  George  Peabodys  and  the  James  Lenoxes  of  the  earth, 
who  give  tens  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  to  good  objects. 
When  Moses  H.  Grinnell  was  buried,  the  most  significant  thing 
about  the  ceremonies  was  that  there  was  no  sermon  and  no  oration  ; 
a  plain  hymn,  a  prayer,  and  a  benediction.  "Well,"  I  said,  "that 
is  very  beautiful."  All  Christendom  pronounces  the  eulogium  of 
Moses  H.  Grinnell.  and  the  icebergs  that  stand  as  monuments  to 
Franklin  and  his  men,  will  stand  as  the  monument  of  this  great  mer- 
chant, and  the  sunlight  that  plays  upon  the  glittering  cliff  will  write  his 
epitaph. 

You  have  all  seen  or  heard  of  the  ruin  of  Melrose  Abbey.  I  sup- 
pose in  some  respects  it  is  the  most  exquisite  ruin  on  earth.  And  yet, 
looking  at  it,  I  was  not  so  impressed — you  may  set  it  down  to  bad 
taste — but  I  was  not  so  deeply  stirred  as  I  was  at  a  tombstone  at  the 
foot  of  that  abbey — the  tombstone  planted  by  Walter  Scott  over  the 
grave  of  an  old  man  who  had  served  him  for  a  good  many  years  in  his 
house — the  inscription  most  significant,  for  I  defy  any  man  to  stand 
there  and  read  without  tears  coming  into  his  eyes  the  epitaph,  "Well 
done,  good  and  faithful  servant."  Oh,  when  our  work  is  over,  will  it 
be  found  that  because  of  anything  we  have  done  for  God,  or  the 
Church,  or  suffering  humanity,  such  an  inscription  is  appropriate  for 
us  ?  God  grant  it  ! 


THE  BLIND  MAN'S  DUTIFUL  CHILD 


109 


tHRIST    AT    GADARA 


110 


HEROES  AND  HEROINES. 


in 


Do  not  envy  any  man  his  money,  or  his  applause,  or  his  social 
position.  Do  not  envy  any  woman  her  wardrobe,  or  her  exquisite  ap- 
pearance. Be  the  hero  or  the  heroine.  If  there  be  no  flour  in  the  house, 
and  you  do  not  know  where  your  children  are  to  get  bread,  listen,  and 
you  will  hear  something  tapping  against  the  window-pane.  Go  to  the 
window,  and  you  will  find  it  is  the  beak  of  a  raven  ;  and  open  the  win- 
dow, and  there  'will  fly  in  the  messenger  that  fed  Elijah. 


«  HIM  THAT  OVERCOMETH." 

Do  you  think  that  the  God  who  grows  the  cotton  of  the  South 
will  let  you  freeze  for  lack  of  clothes  ?  Do  you  think  that  the  God 
who  allowed  the  disciples  on  Sunday  morning  to  go  into  the  grain-field, 
and  then  take  the  grain  and  eat,  will  let  you  starve  ?  Did  you  evei 
hear  the  experience  of  that  old  man  :  "I  have  been  young,  and  now 
am  old  ;  yet  have  I  not  seen  the  righteous  forsaken,  or  his  seed  beg- 
ging bread  "  ?  Get  up  out  of  your  discouragement,  O  troubled  soul, 
O  sewing  woman,  O  man  kicked  and  cuffed  by  unjust  employers,  O  ye 


r  r  2  HER  OES  AND  HER  OINES. 

who  are  hard  bestead  in  the  battle  of  life  and  know  not  which  way  to 
turn,  O  you  bereft  one,  O  you  sick  one  with  complaints  you  have  told 
to  no  one !  Come  and  get  the  comfort  of  this  subject.  Listen  to  our 
great  Captain's  cheer :  "  To  him  that  overcometh,  will  I  give  to  eat  of 
the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  life  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  paradise  of 
God." 

NO    REST    HERE. 

The  great  of  earth  have  their  woes  as  well  as  the  small.  Triumph 
is  the  near  neighbor  of  disgrace  ;  victory  may  be  the  herald  of  defeat. 
The  very  world  that  now  applauds  will  soon  hiss.  That  world 
said  of  the  great  Webster  "  What  a  statesman  !  What  wonderful  ex- 
position of  the  Constitution  !  A  man  fit  for  any  place  or  position  !" 
That  same  world  said  afterwards  :  "  Down  with  him  !  He  is  an  office- 
seeker  !  He  is  a  sot !  He  is  a  libertine  !  Away  with  him  !" 

While  Charles  Mathews  was  performing  in  London  before  im 
mense  audiences,  one  day  a  worn-out  and  gloomy  man  came  into  a 
doctor's  shop,  saying,  "Doctor,  what  can  you  do  for  me?"  The  doctor 
examined  his  case  and  said,  "  My  advice  is  that  you  go  and  see  Charles 
Mathews."  "Alas!  alas!"  said  the  man,  "I  myself  am  Charles 
Mathews." 

Jeffrey  thought  that  if  he  could  only  be  judge,  that  would  be  the 
making  of  him  ;  he  got  to  be  judge,  and  cursed  the  day  in  which  he 
was  born.  Alexander  wanted  to  submerge  the  world  with  his  great- 
ness ;  he  submerged  it,  and  then  drank  himself  to  death  because  he 
could  not  stand  the  trouble.  Burns  thought  he  would  give  every  thing 
if  he  could  win  the  favor  of  courts  and  princes  ;  he  won  it,  and,  amid 
the  shouts  of  a  great  entertainment,  when  poets,  and  orators,  and 
duchesses  were  adoring  his  genius,  he  wished  that  he  could  creep 
back  into  the  obscurity  in  which  he  dwelt  on  the  day  when  he  wrote  of 
the 

"  Daisy,  wee,  modest,  crimson-tipped  flower." 

Napoleon  wanted  to  make  all  Europe  tremble  at  his  power  ;  he  made 
it  tremble,  then  died,  his  entire  military  achievements  dwindling  down  to 
a  pair  of  military  boots  which  he  insisted  on  having  on  his  feet  when 
dying.  At  Versailles  I  saw  a  picture  of  Napoleon  in  his  triumph.  I 
went  into  another  room  and  saw  a  bust  of  Napoleon  as  he  appeared 
at  St.  Helena  ;  but  oh,  what  grief  and  anguish  in  the  face  of  the  latter ! 
The  first  was  Napoleon  in  triumph,  the  last  was  Napoleon  with  his 


HEROES  AND  HEROINES.  113 

heart  broken.  How  they  laughed  and  cried  when  silver-tongued  Sheri- 
dan, in  the  mid-day  of  prosperity,  harangued  the  people  of  Britain,  and 
how  they  howled  at  and  execrated  him  when,  outside  of  the  room  where 
his  corpse  lay,  his  creditors  tried  to  get  his  miserable  bones  and  sell 
them  ! 

No  rest  for  the  flowers  ;  they  fade.  No  rest  for  the  stars  ;  they 
die.  No  rest  for  man  ;  he  must  work,  toil,  suffer,  and  slave. 

HEAVENLY   RECOGNITION. 

Only  in  heaven  shall  the  true  hero  gain  full  recognition  for  his 
deeds.  There  Christian  workers  shall  be  like  the  stars  in  the  fact 
that  they  have  a  light  independent  of  each  other.  Look  up  at  night, 
and  see  how  each  world  shows  its  distinct  glory.  It  is  not  like  the 
conflagration,  in  which  you  cannot  tell  where  one  flame  stops  and 
another  begins.  Neptune,  Herschel,  and  Mercury  are  as  distinct  as  if 
each  one  of  them  were  the  only  star  ;  so  our  individualism  will  not  be 
lost  in  heaven.  A  great  multitude— yet  each  one  as  observable,  as 
distinctly  recognized,  as  greatly  celebrated,  as  if  in  all  the  space,  from 
gate  to  gate,  and  from  hill  to  hill,  he  were  the  only  inhabitant — no 
mixing  up,  no  mob,  no  indiscriminate  rush;  each  Christian  worker 
standing  out  illustrious  ;  all  the  story  of  earthly  achievement  adhering 
to  each  one  ;  his  self-denials,  and  pains,  and  services,  and  victories 
published.  Before  men  went  out  to  the  last  war,  the  orators  told  them 
that  they  would  all  be  remembered  by  their  country,  and  their  names 
be  commemorated  in  poetry  and  in  song  ;  but  go  to  the  graveyard  in 
Richmond,  and  you  will  find  there  six  thousand  graves,  over  each  one  of 
which  is  the  inscription,  "  Unknown"  The  world  does  not  remember 
its  heroes ;  but  there  will  be  no  unrecognized  Christian  worker  in 
heaven.  Each  one  known  by  all  ;  grandly  known  ;  known  by  acclama- 
tion ;  all  the  past  story  of  work  for  God  gleaming  in  cheek,  and  brow, 
and  foot,  and  palm.  They  shall  shine  with  distinct  light,  as  the  stars, 
forever  and  ever. 


THE  SACRED  BATTLE-FIELD 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


NIGHT  after  night  we  have  slept  in  tents  in  Palestine.     There 
are  large  villages  of  Bedouins  without  a  house,  and  for  three 
thousand  years  the  people  of  those  places  have  lived  in  black 
tents,  made  out  of  dyed  skins  ;  and  when  the  wind  and  storms  wore 
out  and  tore  loose  those  coverings,  others  of  the  same  kind  took  their 
places. 

In  our  tent  in  Palestine  to-night  I  hear  something  I  never  heard 
before  and  hope  never  to  hear  again.  It  is  the  voice  of  a  hyena  amid 
the  rocks  near  by.  When  you  may  have  seen  this  monster  putting 
his  mouth  between  the  iron  bars  of  a  menagerie,  he  is  a  captive  and 
he  gives  a  humiliated  and  suppressed  cry.  But  yonder  in  the  mid- 
night on  a  throne  of  rocks  he  has  nothing  to  fear,  and  he  utters  him- 
self in  a  loud,  resounding,  terrific,  almost  supernatural  sound,  splitting 
up  the  darkness  into  a  deeper  midnight.  It  begins  with  a  howl  and 
ends  with  a  sound  something  like  a  horse's  whinny.  In  the  hyena's 
voice  are  defiance  and  strength  and  blood-thirstiness  and  crunch  of 
broken  bones  and  death. 

I  am  glad  to  say  that  for  the  most  part  Palestine  is  clear  of  beasts 
of  prey.  The  leopards,  which  Jeremiah  says  cannot  change  their  spots, 
have  all  disappeared,  and  the  lions,  that  once  were  common  all  through 
this  land  and  used  by  all  the  prophets  for  illustrations  of  cruelty  and 
wrath,  have  retreated  before  the  discharges  of  gunpowder,  of  which 
they  have  an  indescribable  fear.  But  for  the  most  part  Palestine  is 
what  it  originally  was. 

JACOB'S  WELL. 

Here  we  found  ourselves  at  Jacob's  well,  the  most  famous  well  in 
history,  most  distinguished  for  two  things — because  it  belonged  to  the 
o'xa  patriarch  after  whom  it  was  named,  and  for  the  wonderful  things 


JESUS   AND   THE   WOMAN   OF   SAMARIA 


115 


THE  WISE  AND  FOOLISH  VIRGINS 


EXPULSION  OF  ADAM  AND  EVE  FROM  EDEN. 


THE  SACRED  BATTLE-FIELD.  \i\ 

which  Christ  said,  seated  on  this  well  curb,  to  the  Samaritan  woman 
We  dismounted  from  our  horses  in  a  drizzling  rain,  and  our  dragoman, 
climbing  up  to  the  well  over  the  slippery  stones,  stumbled  and  fright 
ened  us  all  by  nearly  falling  into  it  I  measured  the  well  at  the  top 
and  found  it  six  feet  from  edge  to  edge.  Some  grass  and  weeds  and 
thorny  growths  overhung  it.  In  one  place  the  roof  was  broken  through. 
Large  stones  embanked  the  wall  on  all  sides.  Our  dragoman  took 
pebbles  and  dropped  them  in,  and,  from  the  time  it  took  after  they 
left  his  hand  to  the  instant  they  clicked  on  the  bottom,  you  could  hear 
it  was  deep,  though  not  as  deep  as  it  once  was,  for  every  day  travelers 
are  applying  the  same  test ;  and  though  in  the  time  of  Maundrell,  the 
traveler,  the  well  was  165  feet  deep,  now  it  is  only  75. 

But  why  did  Jacob  make  a  reservoir  there  when  there  was  plenty 
of  water  all  around ;  an  abundance  of  springs  and  fountains,  and 
seemingly  no  need  of  that  reservoir  ?  Why  did  Jacob  go  to  the  vast 
expense  of  boring  and  digging  a  well  perhaps  200  feet  deep  as  first 
completed,  when,  by  going  a  little  way  off,  he  could  have  had  water 
from  other  fountains  at  little  or  no  expense  ?  Ah,  Jacob  was  wise.  He 
wanted  his  own  well.  Quarrels  and  wars  might  arise  with  other  tribes 
and  the  supply  of  water  might  be  cut  off;  so  the  shovels  and  pick- 
axes and  boring  instruments  were  ordered,  and  the  well  of  nearly  four 
thousand  years  ago  was  sunk  through  the  solid  rock. 

A   MORAL  LESSON. 

When  Jacob  thus  wisely  insisted  on  having  his  own  well  he  taught 
us  not  to  be  unnecessarily  dependent  on  others.  Have  independence 
of  business  character;  independence  of  moral  character  ;  independence 
of  religious  character.  Have  your  own  well  of  grace,  your  own  well 
of  courage,  your  own  well  of  divine  supply.  If  you  are  an  invalid,  you 
have  a  right  to  be  dependent  on  others.  But  if  God  has  given  you 
good  health,  common-sense,  and  two  eyes,  and  two  ears,  and  two  hands, 
and  two  feet,  He  has  equipped  you  for  independence  of  all  the  universe 
except  Himself. 

But  we  must,  this  afternoon,  our  last  day  before  reaching  Naza- 
reth, pitch  our  tent  on  the  most  famous  battle-field  of  all  time — the 
plain  of  Esdraelon.  What  must  have  been  the  feelings  of  the  Prince 
of  Peace  as  he  crossed  it  on  the  way  from  Jerusalem  to  Nazareth  !  Not 
a  flower  blooms  there  but  has  in  its  veins  the  inherited  blood  of  flowers 


1 1 8  THE  SA CRED  BA  TTL E  A  ELD 

that  drank  the  blood  of  fallen  armies.  Hardly  a  foot  of  the  ground 
that  has  not  at  some  time  been  gullied  with  war  chariots  or  trampled 
with  the  hoofs  of  cavalry.  It  is  a  plain  reaching  from  the  Mediter- 
ranean to  the  Jordan.  Upon  it  look  down  the  mountains  of  Tabor 
and  "Gilboa  and  Carmel.  Through  it  rages  at  certain  seasons  the  river 
Kishon  which  swept  down  the  armies  of  Sisera,  the  battle  occurring  in 
November,  when  there  is  almost  always  a  shower  of  meteors,  so  that 
"the  stars  in  their  courses"  were  said  to  have  fought  against  Sisera. 
Through  this  plain  drove  Jehu,  and  the  iron  chariots  of  the  Canaanites, 
scythed  at  the  hubs  of  the  wheels,  hewing  down,  in  their  awful  swathes 
of  death,  thousands  in  a  minute.  The  Syrian  armies,  the  Turkish 
armies,  the  Egyptian  armies,  again  and  again  trampled  it.  There  have 
careered  across  it  David  and  Joshua  and  Godfrey  and  Richard  Cceur 
de  Lion  and  Baldwin  and  Saladin.  It  is  famous  not  only  for  its  past, 
but  because  the  Bible  says  the  great  decisive  battle  of  the  world  will 
be  fought  there — the  battle  of  Armageddon. 

OLD    BATTLE-FIELDS. 

To  me  the  plain  was  the  more  absorbing  because  of  the  desper 
ate  battles  fought  here  and  in  regions  round  in  which  the  Holy  Cross, 
the  very  two  pieces  of  wood  on  which  Jesus  was  supposed  to  have 
been  crucified,  was  carried  as  a  standard  at  the  head  of  the  Christian 
host ;  and  that  night,  on  closing  my  eyes  in  my  tent  on  the  plain  of 
Esdraelon — for  there  are  some  things  we  can  see  better  with  eyes 
shut  than  open — the  scenes  of  that  ancient  war  came  before  me.  The 
twelfth  century  was  closing  and  Saladin  at  the  head  of  eighty  thousand 
mounted  troops  was  crying,  "  Ho  for  Jerusalem  !  Ho  for  all  Pales- 
tine !"  and  before  them  everything  went  down,  but  not  without  unpar- 
alleled resistance.  In  one  place  one  hundred  and  thirty  Christians 
were  surrounded  by  many  thousands  of  furious  Mohammedans.  For 
one  whole  day  the  one  hundred  and  thirty  held  out  against  these  thou 
sands.  Tennyson's  "six  hundred,"  when  "some  one  had  blundered," 
were  eclipsed  by  these  one  hundred  and  thirty  fighting  for  the  Holy 
Cross.  They  took  hold  of  the  lances  which  had  pierced  them  with 
death  wounds,  and  pulling  them  out  of  their  own  breasts  and  sides 
hurled  them  back  again  at  the  enemy.  On  went  the  fight  until  all  but 
one  Christian  had  fallen,  and  he,  mounted  on  the  last  horse,  wielded 


THE  SACRED  BATTLE-FIELD. 


119 


his  battle-axe  right  and  left  till  his  horse  fell  under  the  plunge  of  the 
javelins,  and  the  rider,  making  the  sign  of  the  cross  toward  the  sky, 
gave  up  his  life  on  the  point  of  a  score  of  spears. 

But  soon  after,  the  last  battle  came.  History  portrays  it,  poetry 
chants  it,  painting  colors  it,  and  all  ages  admire  that  last  struggle  to 
keep  in  possession  the  wooden  cross  on  which  Jesus  was  said  to 
have  expired.  It  was  a  battle  in  which  mingled  the  fury  of  devils  and 
the  grandeur  of  angels.  Thousands  of  dead  Christians  on  this  side- 
thousands  of  dead  Mohammedans  on  the  other  side.  The  battle  was 


A  SARACEN  CHARGE. 

hottest  close  around  the  wooden  cross  upheld  by  the  Bishop  of 
Ptolemais,  himself  wounded  and  dying.  And  when  the  Bishop  of 
Ptolemais  dropped  dead,  the  Bishop  of  Lydda  seized  the  cross  and 
again  lifted  it,  carrying  it  onward  into  a  wilder  and  fiercer  fight,  where 
sword  clashed  against  javelin,  battle-axe  upon  helmet,  and  piercing 
spear  against  splintering  shield.  Horses  and  men  tumbled  into  hetero- 
geneous death.  Now  the  wooden  cross,  on  which  the  armies  of 
Christians  had  kept  their  eye,  began  to  waver,  began  to  descend.  It 


120  THE  SACRED  BATTLE-FIELD. 

fell !  and  the  wailing  of  the  Christian  host  at  its  disappearance  drowned 
the  huzzah  of  the  victorious  Moslems. 

THE    TRUE    CROSS. 

But  that  standard  of  the  cross  only  seemed  to  fall.  It  rides  the 
sky  to  day  in  triumph.  Five  hundred  million  souls,  the  mightiest  army 
of  the  ages,  are  following  it,  and  where  that  goes  they  will  go,  across 
the  earth  and  up  the  mighty  steeps  of  the  heavens.  In  the  twelfth 
century  it  seemed  to  go  down,  but  in  the  nineteenth  century  it  is  the 
mightiest  symbol  of  glory  and  triumph,  and  means  more  than  any  other 
standard,  whether  inscribed  with  eagle,  or  lion,  or  bear,  or  star,  or 
crescent.  That  which  Saladin  trampled  on  the  plain  of  Esdraelon,  I 
lift  to-day  for  your  marshalling.  The  cross  !  The  cross  !  The  foot  of  it 
planted  in  the  earth  it  saves,  the  top  of  it  pointing  to  the  heavens  to 
which  it  will  take  you,  and  the  outspread  beam  of  it  like  outstretched 
arms  of  invitation  to  all  nations.  Kneel  at  its  foot !  Lift  your  eye  to 
its  victim  !  Swear  eternal  allegiance  to  its  power  !  And  as  that  mighty 
symbol  of  pain  and  triumph  is  kept  before  us,  we  will  realize  how  in- 
significant  are  the  little  crosses  we  are  called  to  bear,  and  will  more 
cheerfully  carry  them. 


CURSE  OF  STRONG  DRINK 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


WHILE  we  must  confess  that  some  of  the  ancient  arts  have  been 
lost,  yet  the  Christian  era  is  superior  to  all  others  in  the  bad 
eminence  of  whiskey  and  rum  and  gin.  The  modern  drunk 
is  a  hundred-fold  worse  than  the  ancient  drunk.  Noah  in  his  intoxica- 
tion became  imbecile,  but  the  victims  of  modern  alcoholism  have  to 
struggle  with  whole  menageries  of  wild  beasts  and  jungles  of  hissing 
serpents  and  perditions  of  blaspheming  demons.  An  arch-fiend  arrived 
in  our  world,  and  built  here  an  invisible  cauldron  of  temptation.  He 
built  that  cauldron  strong  and  stout  for  all  ages  and  all  nations.  First 
he  squeezed  into  it  the  juices  of  the  forbidden  fruit  of  Paradise.  Then 
he  gathered  for  it  a  distillation  from  the  harvest  fields  and  the  orchards 
of  the  hemispheres.  Then  he  poured  into  this  cauldron  capsicum,  and 
copperas,  and  logwood,  and  deadly  nightshade,  and  assault  and  bat- 
tery, and  vitriol,  and  opium,  and  rum,  and  murder,  and  sulphuric  acid, 
and  theft,  and  potash,  and  cochineal,  and  red  carrots,  and  poverty,  and 
death,  and  hops.  But  it  was  a  dry  compound  and  must  be  moistened 
and  liquefied,  so  the  arch-fiend  poured  into  the  cauldron  the  tears  of 
centuries  of  orphanage  and  widowhood,  and  the  blood  of  twenty  thou- 
sand assassinations.  Then  he  took  a  shovel  that  he  had  brought  up 
from  the  furnaces  of  his  dominion  below,  and  he  thrust  that  shovel  into 
the  great  cauldron  and  began  to  stir,  and  the  cauldron  began  to  heave, 
and  rock,  and  boil,  and  sputter,  and  hiss,  and  smoke,  while  the  nations 
gathered  around  it  with  cups  and  tankards  and  demijohns  and  kegs. 
There  was  enough  for  all,  and  the  arch-fiend  cried,  with  satanic  exultation : 
"Aha!  champion  fiend  am  I!  Who  has  done  more  than  I  have 
for  the  filling  of  coffins  and  graveyards  and  prisons  and  insane  asylums, 
and  the  populating  of  the  lost  world  ?  And  when  this  cauldron  is 
emptied  I'll  fill  it  again,  and  stir  it  again,  and  it  will  smoke  ao-ain.  and 


rzz  THE  CURSE  OF  STRONG  DRINK. 

that  smoke  shall  join  another  smoke — the  smoke  of  a  torment  that 
ascendeth  forever  and  ever.  I  drove  fifty  ships  on  the  rocks  of 
Newfoundland,  and  on  the  Skerries  and  the  Goodwins.  I  defeated  the 
Northern  army  at  Fredericksburg.  I  have  ruined  more  senators  than 
will  gather  next  winter  in  the  national  councils.  I  have  ruined  more 
lords  than  will  be  gathered  in  the  House  of  Peers.  The  cup  out  of 
which  I  ordinarily  drink  is  a  bleached  human  skull,  and  the  upholstery 
of  my  palace  is  of  the  rich  crimson  hue  of  human  gore,  and  the  mosaic 
of  my  floors  is  made  up  of  the  bones  of  children  dashed  to  death  by 
drunken  parents,  and  my  favorite  music — sweeter  than  Te  Deum  or 
triumphal  march — is  the  cry  of  daughters  turned  out  at  midnight  on 
the  street  because  father  has  come  home  drunk  from  the  carousal,  and 
the  seven-hundred-voiced  shriek  of  the  steamer  that  sank  because  the 
captain  was  not  himself  when  he  put  the  ship  on  the  wrong  course. 
Champion  fiend  am  I !  I  have  kindled  more  fires,  I  have  wrung  out 
more  agonies,  I  have  stretched  out  more  midnight  shadows,  I  have 
opened  more  Golgothas,  I  have  rolled  more  Juggernauts,  I  have  damned 
more  souls,  than  any  other  emissary  of  diabolism.  Champion  fiend 
ami!" 

THE  DRUNKARD'S  WILL. 

I  call  your  attention  to  the  fact  that  there  are  thousands  of  people 
born  with  a  thirst  for  strong  drink — a  fact  too  often  ignored.  Along 
some  ancestral  lines  there  runs  a  river  of  temptation.  There  are  chil- 
dren whose  swaddling  clothes  are  torn  off  the  shroud  of  death.  Many 
a  father  has  made  a  will  of  this  sort :  "In  the  name  of  God,  amen.  I 
bequeath  to  my  children  my  houses  and  lands  and  estates  ;  share  and 
share  shall  they  alike.  Hereto  I  affix  my  hand  and  seal  in  the  presence 
of  witnesses."  And  yet,  perhaps  that  very  man  has  made  another  will 
which  the  people  have  never  read,  and  which  has  not  been  proved  in 
the  courts.  That  will,  put  in  writing,  would  read  something  like  this  : 
rt  In  the  name  of  disease  and  appetite  and  death,  amen.  I  bequeath  to 
my  children  my  evil  habits.  My  tankards  shall  be  theirs,  my  wine-cup 
shall  be  theirs,  my  destroyed  reputation  shall  be  theirs.  Share  and 
share  alike  I  bequeath  them  my  infamy.  Hereto  I  affix  my  hand  and 
seal  in  the  presence  of  all  the  applauding  harpies  of  hell." 

THE    NATIONAL    MENACE. 

Is  the  evil  of  drink  a  State  evil,  or  is  it  a  National  evil  ?  Does  it 
belong  to  the  North,  or  to  the  South  ?  Does  it  belong  to  the  East,  or 


THE  CURSE  OF  STRONG  DRINK.  i»3 

to  the  West  ?  Ah  !  there  is  not  an  American  river  into  which  its  tears 
have  not  fallen,  and  into  which  its  suicides  have  not  plunged.  What 
ruined  that  Southern  plantation  of  which  every  field  was  once  a  fortune, 
and  the  proprietor  and  his  family  the  most  affluent  supporters  of  sum- 
mer watering-places  ?  What  threw  that  New  England  farm  into 
decay,  and  turned  the  roseate  cheeks  that  bloomed  at  the  foot  of  the 
Green  Mountains  into  the  pallor  of  despair  ?  What  has  smitten  every 
street  of  every  village,  town  and  city  of  this  continent  with  a  moral 
pestilence  ?  Strong  drink. 

To  prove  that  this  is  a  national  evil,  I  call  up  three  States  in  oppo- 
site directions — Maine,  Iowa  and  Georgia.  Let  them  testify  in  regard 
to  this.  The  State  of  Maine  says,  "It  is  so  great  an  evil  up  here  that 
we  have  anathematized  it  as  a  State.  The  State  of  Iowa  says,  "It  is 
so  great  an  evil  out  here  that  we  have  prohibited  it  by  constitutional 
amendment."  The  State  of  Georgia  says,  "It  is  so  great  an  evil  down 
here  that  ninety  counties  of  this  State  have  made  the  sale  of  intoxi- 
cating drink  a  criminality."  So  the  word  comes  up  from  all  sources, 
and  it  is  going  to  be  a  Waterloo,  and  I  want  all  to  know  on  what  side 
\  am  going  to  be  when  that  Waterloo  is  fully  come,  and  I  want  all  to 
be  on  the  right  side.  Either  drunkenness  will  be  destroyed  in  this 
country,  or  the  American  Government  wii(  be  destroyed.  There  can 
be  no  compromise.  Drunkenness  and  free  institutions  are  coming 
into  a  death  grapple. 

THE  RUM  FIEND'S  CURSE. 

O  Death  !  how  lovely  thou  art  to  her,  the  drunkard's  wife,  and  how 
soft  and  warm  thy  skeleton  hand  !  The  sepulcher  at  midnight  in 
winter  is  a  king's  drawing-room  compared  with  that  woman  s  home.  It 
is  not  so  much  the  blow  on  the  head  that  hurts  as  the  blow  on  the 
heart !  The  rum  fiend  came  to  the  door  of  that  beautiful  home,  and 
opened  it,  and  stood  there,  crying  with  blasting  breath  :  "I  curse  this 
dwelling  with  an  unrelenting  curse  !  I  curse  this  father  into  a  maniac ! 
I  curse  this  mother  into  a  pauper !  I  curse  these  sons  into  vagabonds  ! 
I  curse  these  daughters  into  profligacy  !  Cursed  be  bread-tray  and 
cradle !  Cursed  be  couch  and  chair  and  family  Bible,  with  record  of 
marriages  and  births  and  deaths  !  Curse  upon  curse  !" 

Oh,  how  many  wives  are  there  waiting  to  see  if  something  cannot 
be  done  to  shake  these  frosts  of  the  second  death  off  the  orange  blos- 
soms !  Yea,  God  is  waiting,  the  God  who  works  through  human 


it 4  THE  CURSE  OF  STRONG  DRINK. 

Instrumentalities,  waiting  to  see  whether  this  nation  is  going  to  over- 
throw  this  evil ;  and  if  it  refuse  to  do  so,  God  will  wipe  out  this  nation 
as  he  did  Phoenicia,  as  he  did  Rome,  as  he  did  Thebes,  as  he  did  Baby- 
lon. Aye,  he  is  waiting  to  see  what  the  church  of  God  will  do.  If  the 
church  does  not  do  its  work,  then  he  will  wipe  it  out  as  he  did  the 
church  of  Ephesus,  the  church  of  Thyatira,  the  church  of  Sardis.  The 
Protestant  and  Roman  Catholic  churches  to-day  stand  side  by  side 
with  an  impotent  look,  gazing  on  an  evil  which  costs  this  country  more 
than  a  billion  dollars  a  year,  to  take  care  of  the  800,000  paupers,  and 
the  315,000  criminals,  and  the  30,000  idiots,  and  to  bury  the  75,000 
drunkards,  which  form  the  abundant  harvest  of  rum. 

PARTY   SERVILITY. 

Put  on  your  spectacles  and  take  a  candle  and  examine  the  plat- 
forms of  the  two  leading  political  parties  of  this  country,  and  see  what 
they  are  doing  for  the  arrest  of  this  evil,  and  for  the  overthrow  of  this 
abomination.  Resolutions — oh  yes,  resolutions  about  Mormonism  !  It 
is  safe  to  attack  that  organized  nastiness  2,000  miles  away.  But  not 
one  resolution  against  drunkenness,  which  threatens  to  turn  this  entire 
nation  into  one  bestial  Salt  Lake  City.  Resolutions  against  political 
corruption,  but  not  one  word  about  drunkenness,  which  would  rot  this 
nation  from  scalp  to  heel.  Resolutions  about  protection  against  compe- 
tition with  foreign  industries,  but  not  one  word  about  protection  of 
family  and  church  and  nation  against  the  scalding,  blasting,  all-con- 
suming, damning  tariff  of  strong  drink,  which  is  put  upon  every  finan- 
cial, individual,  spiritual,  moral  and  national  interest  of  our  land.  The 
Democratic  party  was  in  power  for  the  most  of  the  time  for  forty  years 
— what  did  that  national  party  do  for  the  extirpation  of  this  evil? 
Nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  appallingly  nothing.  The  Republican 
party  has  been  in  power  for  about  a  quarter  of  a  century — what  has  it 
done  as  a  national  party  to  extirpate  this  evil  ?  Nothing,  absolutely 
nothing,  appallingly  nothing.  We  must  look  in  another  direction,  for 
here  there  is  no  promise  of  redress. 

DUTY    OF   THE   CHURCH. 

The  Church  of  God  is  the  grandest  and  most  glorious  institution 
on  earth.  What  has  it  in  solid  phalanx  accomplished  for  the  over- 
throw of  drunkenness  ?  Have  its  forces  ever  been  marshalled  ?  No, 
Dot  in  this  direction,  not  for  this  work.  Yet  if  the  17,000,000  professors 


JESUS  AND  THE  SIS'l^KS  OF  BETHANY. 


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GATEWAY  AND  MOSQUE  AT  JERUSALEM. 


THE  CUXSE   OF  STXOMG  URINK.  125 

of  religion  should  take  sides  on  this  subject,  it  would  not  be  very  long 
before  the  destiny  of  this  nation  would  be  decided,  and  rum  cease  to 
reign  in  our  councils  and  in  our  homes. 

The  Church  holds  the  balance  of  power  in  America ;  and  if  Chris- 
dan  people — the  men  and  the  women  whc  profess  to  love  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  to  love  purity,  and  to  be  the  sworn  enemies  of  all  unclean- 
ness  and  debauchery  and  sin — if  all  such  would  march  side  by  side  and 
shoulder  to  shoulder,  this  evil  would  soon  be  overthrown.  Think  ol 
300,000  churches  and  Sunday-schools  in  Christendom,  marching  shoul- 
der to  shoulder !  How  very  short  a  time  it  would  take  them  to  put 
down  this  evil,  if  all  the  churches  of  God — trans-Atlantic  and  cis- 
Atlantic — were  armed  for  this  grand  work ! 

Young  men  of  America,  pass  over  into  the  army  of  teetotalism. 
Shall  whiskey,  good  to  preserve  corpses,  turn  you  into  corpses  ?  Yet 
tens  of  thousands  of  young  men  have  been  dragged  out  of  respecta- 
bility, and  out  of  purity,  and  out  of  good  character,  and  into  darkness, 
by  this  infernal  stuff  called  strong  drink  !  Do  not  touch  it  then  ;  do 
not  taste  it ;  for  its  touch  is  ruin,  its  taste  is  death. 


THE  BALLOT-BOX 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


LOOK  at  it — the  sacred  chest  of  the  ancients — about  five  feet  long, 
three  feet  wide,  and  three  feet  high,  within  and  without  of  gold, 
and  on  the  top  of  it  representations  of  two  angels  facing  each 
other  with  outspread  wings.     The  book  of  the  law  and  many  precious 
things  were  in  that  box.     The  fate  of  the  nation  was  in  it.     Carried 
at  the  head  of  the  host,  in  the  presence  of  that  box  the  waters  of  the 
Jordan  parted.      A  costly,  precious,  divinely  charged,  momentous  box 
was  that. 

Unholy  hands  must  be  kept  off  from  it.  It  was  generally  called 
the  ark  of  the  covenant,  but  you  will  understand  that  it  was  a  box,  the 
most  precious  box  of  the  ages.  Where  is  it  now  ?  Gone  forever.  No 
crypt  of  ancient  church,  no  museum  of  the  world,  has  a  fragment  of  it. 
But  is  not  this  nation  God's  chosen  people?  Have  we  not  been 
brought  through  the  Red  Sea  ?  Have  we  not  been  led  with  the  pillar 
of  fire  by  night  ?  Have  we  no  ark  of  the  covenant  ?  Yes.  The  ballot- 
box  is  our  sacred  chest. 

THE    ARK   OF   THE   AMERICAN    COVENANT. 

The  law  is  in  this  box.  The  will  of  God  and  the  will  of  man  are 
In  it.  The  fate  of  the  nation  is  in  it.  Carried  before  our  host,  the 
waters  of  national  trouble  part.  Its  fate  is  the  fate  of  the  American 
Government.  On  election  day,  ten  million  men  may  uncover  their 
heads  in  its  presence.  Mighty  ark  of  the  American  covenant,  thou 
ballot-box  of  a  free  people  ! 

It  is  a  very  old  box.  In  Athens,  and  long  before  the  art  of  printing 
was  known,  the  people  dropped  pebbles  into  it,  expressive  of  their 
will.  After  that,  beans  were  dropped  into  it — white  beans  for  the 
affirmative,  black  beans  for  the  negative ;  but,  as  through  that  process 

(JUO) 


THE  BALLOT-BOX.  127 

it  was  easy  to  see  which  way  a  man  voted,  the  election  sometimes  took 
place  by  night.  If  a  man  was  to  be  voted  out  of  citizenship,  or,  as  you 
would  say,  ostracized,  his  name  was  put  upon  a  shell  and  the  shell  was 
dropped  into  the  box.  In  Parliament,  O'Connell  and  Grote  and 
Macaulay  and  Cobden  and  Gladstone  fought  for  the  full  introduction 
of  the  ballot-box,  and  in  1872  it  became  one  of  the  fastnesses  of  the 
English  nation. 

The  ballot-box  is  one  of  the  corner-stones  of  our  American 
institutions.  It  is  older  than  the  Constitution.  Tell  me  what  will 
become  of  it,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  will  become  of  the  American 
Government.  What  a  change  of  feeling  in  regard  to  it  has  arisen 
since  Sidney  Smith  shot  his  keenest  shafts  of  ridicule  at  it,  and  William 
Cobbett  felt  called  upon  to  answer  thirty-eight  objections  to  its  existence ! 
Without  the  ballot-box  there  can  be  no  free  institutions,  and  there  can 
be  no  permanent  peace.  Give  the  people  every  year,  or  every  four 
years,  an  opportunity  of  expressing  their  political  preferences,  and 
for  the  most  part  you  avoid  insurrection  and  revolution.  If  they  cannot 
have  the  vote  they  will  have  the  sword. 

When  John  Milton  was  visiting  in  Italy,  he  noticed  that  the  gar- 
deners and  farmers  were  cultivating  the  side  of  Mount  Vesuvius  while 
the  volcano  was  in  eruption,  and  he  asked  them  if  they  found  it  safe  to 
do  so.  "Oh,  yes,"  they  said,  "  the  danger  and  the  alarm  are  before 
the  eruption  takes  place ;  then  there  is  earthquake  and  terror  all  through 
the  country  ;  but  after  the  lava  begins  to  pour  forth,  all  the  people  feel 
relieved."  It  is  the  suppression  of  the  popular  will  that  makes  moral 
earthquake,  political  earthquake.  Give  the  people  full  expression 
through  the  ballot-box  and  there  is  national  relief,  national  satisfaction. 
The  ballot-box  has  many  mighty  foes.  As  a  Christian  patriot,  1  will 
now  enumerate  some  of  those  terrible  enemies. 

IGNORANCE. 

In  the  first  place,  ignorance.  Other  things  being  equal,  in  pro- 
portion as  a  man  is  intelligent,  is  he  qualified  for  the  right  of  suffrage. 
You  have  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty  years  been  studying  American  institu- 
tions through  all  the  channels  of  information.  You  have  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  needs  of  our  country.  You  know  all  that  has  been  said 
on  both  sides  of  the  tariff  question,  the  Chinese  question,  the  educational 
question,  the  sectional  question,  and  you  have  made  up  your  mind. 


iz8  THE  BALLOT-BOX. 

On  election  day  I  see  you  coming  down  off  your  front  steps.  I  say, 
"  Good-morning,  neighbor  ;  hope  you  are  all  well  to-day.  Which  way 
are  you  bound?"  You  say,  "  I  am  going  to  vote."  You  take  your 
position  in  the  line  of  electors,  you  wait  your  turn,  you  come  up,  the 
judge  of  election  announces  your  name,  your  ballot  is  deposited,  you 
pass  out.  Well  done  ! 

But  right  behind  you  comes  a  man  who  cannot  spell  "president," 
or  "controller,"  or  "attorney."  He  cannot  write  his  own  name,  or  if 
he  does  write  it — if  he  can  write  at  all — he  makes  a  small  "i"  for 
the  pronoun  of  the  first  person,  which,  while  very  descriptive  of  his 
limited  capacity,  is  very  hard  on  good  orthography.  He  cannot  tell  you 
on  which  side  of  the  Alleghany  Mountains  Ohio  is  situated.  There 
are  educated  canary  birds  and  educated  horses  which  have  more  intelli- 
gence than  he.  He  puts  in  his  vote  for  the  opposite  candidate,  and  he 
cancels  your  vote.  His  ignorance  weighs  as  much  as  your  intelligence. 
That  is  not  right ;  everybody  says  that  is  not  right. 

How  shall  we  correct  this  evil?  By  laws  of  compulsory  education 
well  executed.  Until  a  man  can  read  the  Declaration  of  American  In- 
dependence, and  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  the  first 
chapter  of  Genesis,  and  write  a  petition  for  citizenship  with  his  own 
hand,  and  calculate  how  much  is  the  interest  of  the  United  States  debt, 
and  tell  the  difference  between  a  republic,  a  limited  monarchy,  and  a 
despotism,  he  is  not  fit  to  vote  at  any  polls  between  Key  West  and 
Alaska.  Time  was  when  there  may  have  been  an  excuse  for  ignorance, 
but  there  is  none  in  this  day,  when  the  common  school  makes  knowl- 
edge as  free  as  the  fresh  air  of  Heaven. 

In  1872,  in  England,  there  were  two  million  seven  hundred  thou- 
sand children  who  ought  to  have  been  in  school,  but  there  were  in  school 
only  one  million  three  hundred  and  thirty-three  thousand  six  hundred 
— about  fifty  per  cent.  And  of  all  those  who  were  in  school,  not  more 
than  five  per  cent,  got  anything  worthy  of  the  name  of  education. 
Much  of  this  foreign  ignorance  is  added  to  our  American  ignorance, 
and  every  year  tens  of  thousands  cast  their  votes  who  have  no  more 
qualification  to  do  so  than  they  would  have  qualification  to  lecture  on 
astronomy. 

Now,  I  go  for  a  law  which,  after  it  has  given  a  sufficient  number 
of  years  of  warning,  shall  make  ignorance  a  crime.  I  go  for  a  law 
which  would  place  a  board  of  examination  side  by  side  with  the  officers 


THE  PEACEABLE  FRUIT0   ^F  THE  SPIRIT 


129 


130 


JOY  AFTER  A  NIGHT  OF  WEEPING 


THE  BALLOT-BOX.  131 

of  registration,  to  decide  whether  a  man  has  enough  intelligence  to  be- 
come one  of  the  monarchs  who  shall  decide  the  destiny  of  this  Republic. 

SPURIOUS   VOTING. 

Another  powerful  enemy  of  the  ballot-box  is  spurious  voting. 
What  a  grand  thing  is  the  law  of  registration  !  Without  it  election  day 
would  be  a  farce ;  but  how  sad  is  the  condition  of  things  when  in 
nearly  every  State  each  party  charges  upon  the  other  the  outrage  of  the 
ballot-box.  The  law  needs  a  keener  twist  for  the  neck  of  the  repeaters. 
They  need  something  more  than  a  slight  fine  and  a  short  imprisonment. 
They  are  attempting  the  assassination  of  this  Republic.  In  olden 
times,  when  men  with  unholy  hands  touched  the  ark  of  the  covenant, 
they  dropped  dead.  Witness  Uzza.  And  when  men  through  spurious 
voting  lay  unholy  hands  on  the  sacred  chest — the  ark  of  the  American 
covenant — they  deserve  extermination ! 

INTIMIDATION. 

Another  powerful  foe  of  the  ballot-box  is  intimidation.  -  There  are 
corporations  which  compel  their  employees  to  vote  as  they,  the  head, 
wish  them.  In  a  delicate  and  skillful  way  they  simply  intimate  to  their 
men  that  if  they  do  not  vote  as  the  employers  vote,  they  will  be  frozen 
out  of  the  establishment.  There  are  thousands  of  such  places.  You 
can  go  to  villages  where  there  are  factories,  where,  if  you  find  out  the 
political  sentiment  of  the  men  who  own  the  factories,  you  can  tell  how 
the  election  will  go.  Now,  that  is  damnable  !  . 

When  an  employee  does  his  work  well,  and  gives  you  full  equiva- 
lent in  toil  for  what  you  pay  him  in  wages,  you  have  no  right  to  expect 
any  more  of  him.  He  sells  you  his  work.  He  does  not  sell  you  his 
political  or  his  religious  principles.  Yet  you  are  too  wise  to  say, 
"You  did  not  vote  as  I  wanted  you  to  vote,  now  I  discharge  you." 
You  call  him  in  some  day  and  find  fault  with  his  work,  and  you  tell 
him  that  you  have  an  uncle,  or  an  aunt,  a  cousin,  or  a  niece,  or  a 
nephew  who  will  need  to  have  his  situation  !  But  he  knows  why  you 
discharge  him,  and  God  knows.  You  are  not  fit  for  American 
citizenship. 

There  must  be  on  the  ark  of  the  covenant — the  sacred  chest — no 

'  shadow  of  corporate  or  capitalistic  intimidation.    I  am  not  surprised  at 

the  vehemence  of  Lord  Chief  Justice  Holt,  of  England,  when  he  says: 


I37  THE  BALLOT-BOX. 

"  Let  the  people  vote  fairly.  Interference  with  a  man's  vote  is  in  be- 
half of  this  or  the  other  party.  If  such  cases  come  before  me  to  be 
tried,  I  shall  charge  the  jury  to  make  the  offender  pay  well  for  it." 

BRIBERY. 

Another  powerful  foe  of  the  ballot-box  is  bribery.  I  do  not  know 
which  party  raises  the  most  money  for  this  shameful  purpose,  but  I  can 
safely  say  that  bribery  is  the  disgrace  of  American  institutions.  It  is 
often  the  case  that  men  are  nominated  for  office  with  reference  to  the 
amount  of  money  of  their  own  which  they  can  put  into  the  contest,  or 
the  amount  of  money  which  they  can  command  from  their  friends. 
Senators  and  Congressmen  and  Governors  buy  their  way  into  office! 
I  tell  you  no  news  in  this  respect.  Your  own  patriotic  hearts  have 
been  pained  with  it. 

It  is  often  the  case  that  the  bribe  comes  in  the  form  of  official 
position.  "Wheel  your  eloquence  to  my  side,  and  when  I  get  to  be 
President  I  will  make  you  Secretary  of  State,  or  you  shall  be  Postmas- 
ter-General or  Minister  to  England.  Wheel  your  eloquence  to  my 
side,  and  when  I  get  to  be  Governor  you  shall  be  Surveyor-General. 
Wheel  your  eloquence  to  my  side,  and  when  I -get  to  be  Mayor  you 
shall  be  on  the  Water  Board."  The  simple  fact  is,  that  by  the  time 
many  of  those  who  are  running  for  office  get  to  the  chair,  they  are  from 
the  crown  of  the  head  to  the  sole  of  the  foot  mortgaged  with  pledges, 
and  the  people  who  go  to  Albany  or  to  Washington  to  seek  offices  are 
applying  for  positions  that  were  gone  three  months  before  the  election. 

There  are  two  long  lines  of  worm-fence — one  line  of  worm-fence 
reaching  to  Albany,  the  other  line  of  worm-fence  reaching  to  Washing- 
ton— and  at  the  time  of  the  nominations  there  are  great  multitudes  of 
citizens  astride  these  fences,  equally  poised,  ready  to  get  down  on 
that  side  on  which  they  can  get  the  most  emolument.  Bribery  for 
those  who  receive  it,  and  bribery  on  the  part  of  those  who  give  it,  kicks 
both  ways  ;  and  it  is  a  disgrace  to  the  ballot-box,  and  a  scourge  to  the 
sacred  chest — the  ark  of  the  American  covenant.  In  the  name  of  God 
I  denounce  it. 

SALOON-MADE    CANDIDATES. 

Another  powerful  foe  of  the  ballot-box  is  the  rowdy  and  drunken 
caucus.  The  ballot-box  is  robbed  of  its  power  of  choice  when  in  a 


THE  BALLOT-BOX.  133 

back  room  of  some  groggery  the  nominees  are  made,  and  the  men  who 
come  up  to  the  ballot-box  on  election  day  have  a  choice  between  two  evils. 

Now,  you  respectable  men  of  both  parties,  I  charge  you  that, 
having  saturated  your  handkerchiefs  with  cologne  or  some  other  disin- 
fectant, you  go  down  and  take  possession  of  the  caucus.  You  begin 
your  work  on  election  day,  and  you  begin  it  two  weeks  or  two  months 
too  late.  In  some  of  the  cities  of  the  United  States,  when  the  elector 
comes  to  the  polls  he  finds  that  the  nominees  are  such  a  scaly,  greasy, 
stenchful  crew  that  there  is  no  choice.  What  if  he  vote  for  some  out- 
sider ?  He  merely  throws  his  vote  away.  Now,  honorable  men,  go 
and  take  possession  of  the  caucus,  though  when  you  return  home  you 
have  to  hang  your  hat  and  your  coat  on  the  line  in  the  back  yard. 

It  is  high  time  that  these  things  were  changed.  American  politics 
have  got  very  low,  and  in  some  States  they  are  controlled  by  men  who 
are  not  more  in  need  of  good  morals  than  of  a  bath-tub  !  Snatch  the 
ballot-box  from  such  desperadoes.  Where  is  the  David  with  the 
courage  to  bring  back  the  ark  of  the  covenant  from  Kirjath-jearim  ? 
You  all  see  that  there  is  need  of  reformation  of  the  ballot-box,  when 
in  our  day  it  could  send  a  Tweed  to  the  New  York  Legislature,  and  a 
John  Morrissey — the  prince  of  gamblers — to  the  American  Congress. 
The  ballot-box  needs  to  be  washed ! 

A    PROPERTY   QUALIFICATION. 

Some  propose,  by  way  of  improvement,  that  we  have  in  this 
country  a  property  qualification.  They  say  that  if  men  have  a  certain 
amount  of  real  estate  they  are  more  likely  to  have  a  financial  interest 
in  good  government ;  and  they  say  that  as  soon  as  a  man  gets  property 
he  becomes  cautious  and  conservative.  I  have  to  reply  that  a  property 
qualification  would  shut  out  from  the  ballot-box  much  of  the  best  brain 
of  this  country.  Literary  men  are  almost  always  poor.  The  pen  is  a 
good  kind  of  implement  for  mending  the  world,  but  a  poor  implement 
for  gaining  a  livelihood.  I  could  call  the  roll  of  hundreds  of  literary 
men  who  never  owned  a  foot  of  ground,  and  never  will  own  a  foot  of 
ground  until  they  get  under  it — professors  of  colleges,  editors  of  news- 
papers, ministers  of  religion,  book-makers  depending  on  a  scant  and 
uncertain  royalty  paid  by  the  publishers.  A  property  qualification  will 
shut  out  these  men,  and  a  great  multitude  who,  though  they  never 
owned  a  house  on  earth,  will  have  a  mansion  in  heaven. 


i34  THE  BALLOT-BOX. 

On  the  other  hand,  you  will  notice  that  there  are  those  who  by  ac- 
cident of  fortune  have  got  vast  estates,  while  they  are  in  profound 
stupidity.  An  English  millionaire  told  me  on  the  steamer  going  over 
to  Europe,  that  he  was  going  to  see  "the  dikes  of  Scotland";  and  a 
lady  of  much  pretension,  who  had  just  returned  from  Europe,  upon 
being  asked  last  summer  on  the  cars  by  a  member  of  my  family  if  she 
had  seen  Mont  Blanc,  said,  "Well,  really,  I  don't  know;  is  that  in 
Europe?"  There  is  no  more  complete  ignorance  than  you  will  some- 
times find  dismounting  from  a  four-thousand-dollar  equipage  at  the 
door  of  a  Madison  Avenue  mansion.  The  property  qualification  would 
be  a  gigantic  injustice. 

There  are  only  two  ways  in  which  you  will  ever  mend  these  mat- 
ters— one  by  more  thorough  legal  defense  of  the  ballot-box,  and  the 
other  by  more  thorough  education  and  moralization  of  the  people. 

WOMAN    SUFFRAGE. 

We  may  be  obliged  to  call  upon  woman  to  help  us  in  the  reformation 
of  the  ballot-box.  Wherever  she  goes  there  is  adornment  and  beauti- 
fication.  I  suppose  you  have  noticed  the  difference  between  the  clean- 
liness of  the  gentlemen's  cabin  on  the  ferry-boat,  and  of  the  ladies'  cabin. 
I  suppose  you  have  noticed  the  difference  between  the  cleanliness  of 
the  gentlemen's  smoking-car  on  the  rail-train,  and  of  the  other  cars 
in  which  women  are  passengers.  Give  woman  the  right  of  suffrage, 
and  our  polls  on  election  day,  instead  of  being  cheerless  and  repulsive, 
will  be  places  of  beauty. 

By  what  justice  have  the  majority  of  the  grown  people  in  this 
country  been  disfranchised  ?  Simply  because  they  are  women.  Give 
woman  the  ballot,  and  that  will  quickly  decide  the  Mormon  and  tem- 
perance questions.  A  woman  owning  property  must  pay  taxes.  Ought 
she  not  then  to  have  a  right  to  say  something  in  regard  to  the  expen- 
diture of  those  moneys? 

Many  of  us  have  been  opposed  to  female  suffrage,  on  the  ground 
that  we  do  not  want  woman's  delicate  nature  to  confront  the  insults 
and  the  blasphemies  and  the  disorder  of  election  day ;  but  when  she 
has  the  ballot  there  will  be  no  insults,  no  disorder,  no  blasphemies  on 
election  day.  It  is  not  so  much  what  the  ballot  would  do  for  woman, 
as  what  woman  would  do  for  the  ballot.  I  cannot  understand  how  there 
should  be  such  an  aversion  to  woman's  political  preference  among 


THE  BALLOT-BOX.  135 

Americans  and  among  Englishmen  in  this  day,  when  we  have  a  great- 
souled  American  woman  reigning  in  the  White  House  and  a  Queen 
Victoria  in  Windsor  Castle. 

The  ancient  ark  of  the  covenant  was  carried  into  captivity,  away 
off  to  Kirjath-jearim ;  but  one  day  that  sacred  chest  was  put  upon  a 
cart,  and  oxen  were  fastened  to  the  cart,  and  the  chest  was  brought 
back  to  Jerusalem  with  shouting  and  thanksgiving.  So  the  ballot-box 
has  been  carried  into  captivity  by  demagogism  and  mobocracy ;  but  I 
should  not  wonder  if,  by  prayer  to  God  with  thanksgiving,  that  sacred 
ark  of  the  covenant  would  be  brought  back  and  put  into  the  temple  of 
Christian  patriotism.  Take  the  first  step  in  this  direction  when  you 
cast  your  next  ballot.  It  may  be  the  last  vote  you  will  ever  deposit  for 
the  highest  office  in  this  country.  I  know  that  we  sometimes  find  cen- 
tenarians pleasantly  boasting  that  they  have  voted  for  nearly  all  the 
Presidents  ;  but  the  majority  of  men  never  vote  for  more  than  three  or 
four.  Do  you  think  your  vote  of  no  importance  ? 

POWER   OF   THE    BALLOT. 

A  poor  soldier  went  into  the  store  of  a  hair-dresser  in  London,  arid 
asked  for  money  to  get  back  to  the  army.  He  had  already  stayed  be- 
yond his  furlough,  and  he  must  have  quick  transit.  The  hair-dresser 
felt  sorry  for  him  and  gave  him  the  money.  "Now,"  said  the  poor 
soldier,  "I  have  got  nothing  to  give  you  in  return  for  your  kindness 
except  this  little  slip  of  paper,  which  has  on  it  a  recipe  for  making 
blacking."  The  soldier  gave  it,  not  supposing  it  to  be  of  great  value. 
The  man  received  it,  not  supposing  it  to  be  of  any  great  value.  But 
it  has  yielded  the  man  who  took  it  two  million  five  hundred  thousand 
dollars,  and  was  the  foundation  of  one  of  the  greatest  manufacturing 
establishments  of  England. 

So  that  little  slip  of  printed  paper  that  you  drop  into  the  ballot- 
box  may  seem  to  be  insignificant,  and  yet  it  may  have  a  moral  and  a 
national  value  beyond  all  estimation. 

The  white  flakes  of  the  ballot  will  fall  in  all  the  villages  between ' 
the  Highlands  of  Navesink  and  the  Golden  Gate  of  the  Pacific,  so 
silently  that  the  keenest  ear  will  not  detect  one  out  of  the  millions — 
snowing  on  until  noon,  snowing  on  until  night.  The  octogenarian  will 
come  up  to  the  polls  with  trembling  hand,  and  scanning  the  billot  with 
spectacled  eyes,  will  give  it  to  the  judge  of  election.  The  young  man 


*36  2 'HE  BALLOT-BOX. 

who  has  been  patiently  waiting  the  time  when  he  would  have  a  right  to 
vote  will  come  up,  and  proudly  and  blushingly  hand  in  his  suffrage  and 
pass  on.  The  capitalist  with  diamonded  finger  and  the  workman  with 
hard  fist  will  come  up,  and  the  vote  of  the  one  will  be  as  good  as  the 
vote  of  the  other.  Snowing,  snowing,  snowing,  until  at  sundown  all 
these  flakes  will  be  united  and  compacted  into  an  avalanche  ready  to 
slide  down  in  expression  of  the  nation's  will.  Stand  out  of  the  way  ! 
in  the  awful  sweep  of  the  white  avalanche,  may  there  go  down  section- 
alism and  political  fraud  ten  thousand  feet  under,  forever  under ! 

OUR   GREAT   REPUBLIC. 

I  have  called  your  attention  to  the  two  angels  on  the  top  of  the  sacred 
chest,  facing  each  other  with  outspread  wings.  So  on  the  ark  of  the 
American  covenant  let  the  two  angels — the  angel  of  the  North  and  the 
angel  of  the  South,  long  looking  different  ways — now  stand  face  to 
face  with  outspread  wings  of  blessing ! 

We*  cannot  live  under  any  other  form  of  government  than  that 
under  which  we  are  living.  The  stars  of  our  flag  are  not  the  stars  of 
thickening  night,  but  stars  sparkling  amid  the  red  bars  of  morning 
cloud.  Let  the  despotisms  of  Asia  keep  their  feet  off  the  Pacific  coast ! 
Let  the  tyrannies  of  Europe  keep  their  feet  off  the  Atlantic  coast ! 
We  shall  have  in  this  country  only  one  government,  and  on  this  conti- 
nent only  one  government.  At  the  south,  Mexico  will  follow  Texas 
into  the  Union,  and  Christianity  and  civilization  will  stand  in  the  halls 
of  the  Montezumas,  and  if  not  in  our  day,  then  in  the  day  of  our  chil- 
dren, Yucatan  and  Central  America  will  wheel  into  the  line  of  dominion. 
On  the  north,  Canada  will  be  ours — not  by  conquest — for  English  and 
American  swords  may  never  clash  blades — but  we  will  simply  woo  our 
fair  neighbor  of  the  north,  and  she  will  be  ours.  England  will  say  to 
Canada,  "You  are  old  enough  now  for  the  marriage-day.  Giant  of  the 
West,  go  take  your  bride  ! "  Then  from  Baffin's  Bay  to  the  Caribbean 
there  shall  be  one  Republic,  under  one  banner,  and  with  one  destiny — 
a  free,  undisputed,  christianized,  American  continent  1 


DRESS  AND  DISSIPATION 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


WHEN  I  come  to  count  the  victims  of  fashion,  I  find  as  many 
masculine  as  feminine.     Men  make  an  easy  tirade  against 
woman,  as  though  she  were  the  chief  worshiper  at  this  idol' 
atrous  shrine,  yet  they  are  as  much  the  idolaters  of  fashion  as  women, 
though  they  throw  themselves  on  a  different  part  of  the  altar.     With 
men  the  fashion  goes  to  cigars,  and  club-rooms,  and  yachting  parties,  and 
wine-suppers.    In  the  United  States,  the  men  chew  up  and  smoke  one 
hundred  millions  of  dollars'  worth  of  tobacco   every  year.     That  is 
their  fashion. 

But  men  do  not  abstain  from  millinery  and  elaboration  of  skirt 
through  any  superiority  of  humility.  It  is  only  because  such  appendages 
would  be  a  blockade  to  business.  What  would  sashes  and  trails  three 
and  a  half  yards  long  do  in  a  Wall  street  stock  market  ?  And  yet 
men  are  the  disciples  of  fashion  just  as  much  as  women.  Some  of 
them  wear  boots  so  tight  that  they  can  hardly  walk  in  paths  of  right- 
eousness. And  there  are  men  who  buy  expensive  suits  of  clothes  and 
never  pay  for  them,  and  who  go  through  the  streets  in  great  stripes  of 
color  like  animated  checker-boards,  and  suggest  to  one  that,  after  all, 
some  Tweed  in  prison  dress  may  have  got  out  of  the  penitentiary. 

There  are  multitudes  of  men  who,  not  satisfied  with  the  bodies 
the  Lord  gave  them,  are  padded,  so  that  their  shoulders  shall  be  square, 
— carrying  around  a  small  cotton  plantation  !  I  understand  that  a  great 
many  of  them  now  paint  their  eyebrows  and  their  lips  ;  and  I  have 
heard  from  good  authority  that  there  are  multitudes  of  men  in  Brooklyn 
and  New  York — things  have  got  to  such  an  awful  pass — multitudes  of 
men  wearing  corsets  ! 

I  want  to  show  you  that  I  am  impartial  in  this  discussion,  and  that 
h-nn  sexes,  in  the  language  of  the  Surrogate's  office,  shall  "  share  and 

'37 


13*  DRESS  AND  DISSIPATION. 

share  alike."    What  are  some  of  the  destroying-  and  deathful  influences 
of  inordinate  fashion  ? 

The  first  baleful  influence  is  in  fraud,  illimitable  and  ghastly.  Do 
you  know  that  Arnold  of  the  Revolution  proposed  to  sell  his  country 
in  order  to  get  money  to  supply  his  wife's  wardrobe  ?  I  declare  before 
God  that  the  effort  to  keep  up  expensive  wardrobes  in  this  country  is 
sending  many  business  men  to  temporal  and  eternal  perdition.  What 
was  it  that  sent  Oilman  to  the  penitentiary,and  Philadelphia  Morton  to  the 
watering  of  stocks,  and  the  life-insurance  presidents  to  perjured  state- 
ments about  their  assets,  and  that  has  completely  upset  our  American 
finances  ?  What  was  it  that  overthrew  Belknap,  the  United  States 
Secretary  at  Washington,  the  crash  of  whose  fall  shook  the  continent  ? 

But  why  should  I  go  to  these  infamous  defaultings  to  show  what 
men  will  do  in  order  to  keep  up  great  home-style  and  expensive  ward- 
robes, when  you  and  I  know  scores  of  men  who  are  put  to  their  wit's 
end  and  are  lashed  from  January  to  December  in  the  attempt  to  keep 
up  great  home-style  ? 

The  temptation  comes  in  this  way  :  A  certain  man  thinks  more 
of  his  home  folks  than  he  does  of  all  the  world  outside,  and  if  they 
spend  the  evening  in  describing  to  him  the  superior  wardrobe  of  the 
family  across  the  street,  that  they  cannot  bear  the  sight  of,  the  man  is 
thrown  on  his  gallantry  and  his  pride  of  family  ;  and,  without  trans- 
lating his  feelings  into  plain  language,  he  goes  into  extortion  and 
issuing  false  stock,  and  skillful  penmanship  in  writing  somebody  else's 
name  at  the  foot  of  a  promissory  note ;  and  they  all  go  down  to- 
gether— the  husband  to  the  prison,  the  wife  to  the  sewing-machine,  the 
children  to  be  taken  care  of  by  those  who  were  called  poor  relations. 
Oh,  for  some  new  Shakespeare  to  arise  and  write  the  tragedy  of  clothes ! 

Act  the  first — A  plain  but  beautiful  home.  Enter,  the  newly-mar- 
ried pair.  Enter,  simplicity  of  manner  and  behavior.  Enter,  as  much 
happiness  as  is  ever  found  in  one  home. 

Act  the  second — Discontent  with  the  humdrum  of  life.  Enter,  envy 
Enter,  jealousy.  Enter,  desire  of  display. 

'Act  the  third — Enlargement  of  expenses.     Enter,  all  the  queen! 
dressmakers.     Enter,  the  French  milliners. 

Act  the  fourth — The  tip-top  of  society.  Enter,  princes  and 
princesses  of  New  York  life.  Enter,  magnificent  plate  and  equipage. 
Enter,  everything  splendid. 


VOTARY  OF  FASHION. 


139 


'4o  DXESS  AND  DISSIPATION. 

Act  the  fifth  and  last — Winding  up  of  the  scene.  Enter,  the 
assignee.  Enter,  the  sheriff.  Enter,  the  creditors.  Enter,  humilia- 
tion. Enter,  the  wrath  of  God.  Enter,  the  contempt  of  society. 
Enter,  death.  Now  let  the  silk  curtain  drop  on  the  stage.  The  farce 
is  ended,  and  the  lights  are  out. 

The  greatest  obstacle  to  charity  in  the  Christian  Church  to-day  is 
the  fact  that  men  expend  so  much  money  on  their  stomachs,  and 
women  expend  so  much  money  on  their  backs,  that  they  have  got 
nothing  left  for  the  cause  of  God  and  the  world's  betterment.  In- 
ordinate fashion  causes  distraction  in  worship. 

You  know  very  well  that  there  are  a  good  many  people  who  come 
to  church  just  as  they  go  to  the  races,  to  see  who  will  come  out  ahead. 
What  a  flutter  it  makes  in  church  when  some  woman  with  an  extraor- 
dinary display  of  fashion  comes  in  !  "  What  a  love  of  a  bonnet !" 
says  some  one.  "What  a  perfect  fright !"  say  five  hundred  ;  for  the 
most  merciless  critics  in  the  world  are  fashion-critics.  Men  and  women, 
with  souls  to  be  saved,  passing  the  hour  in  wondering  where  that  man 
got  his  flamboyant  cravat  or  what  store  that  woman  patronizes  !  In 
many  of  our  churches  the  preliminary  exercises  are  taken  up  with  the 
discussion  of  wardrobes.  It  is  pitiable.  Is  it  not  wonderful  that  the  Lord 
does  not  strike  the  meeting-house  with  lightning  ?  What  distraction 
of  public  worship  !  Dying  men  and  women,  whose  bodies  are  soon 
to  be  turned  into  dust,  yet  before  three  worlds  strutting  like  peacocks, 
the  awful  question  of  the  soul's  destiny  submerged  by  the  question  of 
Creedmoor  polonaise  and  navy  blue  velvet  with  long  fan  train  skirt, 
long  enough  to  drag  up  the  church  aisle  the  husband's  store,  office, 
shop,  factory,  fortune,  and  the  admiration  of  half  the  people  in  the 
building  ! 

THE    DANCE. 

After  the  temptation  of  dress  comes  that  of  the  dance.     Dancing 
is  the  graceful  motion  of  the  body  adjusted  by  art  to  the  sound  and 
•  measures  of  musical  instrument  or  of  the  human  voice.     All   nations 
'nave  danced.     The  ancients  thought  that  Castor  and  Pollux  taught 
the  art  to  the   Lacedaemonians.     But,  whoever  started  it,  all  climes 
have  adopted  it.     In  ancient  times  they  had  the  festal  dance,  the  mili- 
tary dance,  the  mediatorial  dance,  the  bacchanalian  dance.      Queens 
and  lords  swayed  to  and  fro  in  the  gardens,  and  rough  backwoodsmen 
with  this  exercise  awakened  the  echo  of  the  forest.     There  is  some- 


DRESS  AND  DISSIPATION.  141 

thing  in  the  sound  of  lively  music  that  evokes  the  movement  of  the 
hands  and  feet,  whether  cultured  or  uncultured.  Passing  down  the 
street,  we  unconsciously  keep  step  to  the  sound  of  the  brass  band. 
The  Christian  in  church  beats  time  with  his  foot,  while  his  soul  rises 
upon  some  great  harmony.  While  this  is  so  in  civilized  lands,  the  red 
men  of  the  forest  have  their  scalp-dances,  their  green-corn  dances, 
their  war-dances. 

In  ancient  times  the  exercise  was  so  utterly  and  completely  de- 
praved that  the  Church  anathematized  it.  The  old  Christian  fathers 
expressed  themselves  most  vehemently  against  it.  St.  Chrysostom 
says,  "The  feet  were  not  given  for  dancing,  but  to  walk  modestly, 
not  to  leap  impudently  like  camels."  One  of  the  dogmas  of  the 
ancient  Church  reads,  "A  dance  is  the  devil's  possession,  and  he 
that  entereth  into  a  dance  entereth  into  his  possession.  As  many 
paces  as  a  man  makes  in  dancing,  so  many  paces  does  he  make  to 
hell."  Elsewhere  the  old  dogmas  declared  this:  "The  woman  that 
singeth  in  the  dance  is  the  princess  of  the  devil,  and  those  that  answer 
are  her  clerks,  and  the  beholders  are  his  friends,  and  the  music  is  his 
bellows,  and  the  fiddlers  are  the  ministers  of  the  devil.  For,  as  when 
hogs  are  strayed,  if  the  hogsherd  call  one,  all  assemble  together,  so 
when  the  devil  calleth  one  woman  to  sing  in  the  dance,  or  to  play  on 
some  musical  instrument,  presently  all  the  dancers  gather  together." 
This  indiscriminate  and  universal  denunciation  of  the  exercise  came 
from  the  fact  that  it  was  utterly  and  completely  depraved. 

As  to  the  physical  ruin  wrought  by  the  dissipations  of  social  life, 
there  can  be  no  doubt.  What  may  we  expect  of  people  who  work  all 
day  and  dance  all  night  ?  After  a  while  they  will  be  thrown  on  society 
as  nervous,  exhausted  imbeciles.  These  people  who  indulge  in  late 
suppers  and  midnight  revels,  and  then  go  home  in  the  cold  unwrapped 
in  limbs,  will  after  a  while  be  found  to  have  been  written  down  in  God's 
eternal  records  as  suicides,  as  much  suicides  as  if  they  had  taken  their 
life  with  a  pistol,  or  a  knife,  or  strychnine. 

How  many  people  in  America  have  stepped  from  the  ball-room 
into  the  grave-yard.  Consumptions  and  swift  neuralgias  are  close  on 
their  track.  Amid  many  of  the  glittering  scenes  of  social  life  in 
America,  diseases  stand  right  and  left,  and  balance  and  chain.  The 
breath  of  the  sepulcher  floats  up  through  the  perfume,  and  the  froth 
of  Death's  lip  bubbles  up  in  the  champagne.  I  am  told  that  in  some 


142  DRESS  AND  DISSIPATION. 

parts  of  this  country,  in  some  of  the  cities,  there  are  parents  who  have 
actually  given  up  housekeeping  and  gone  to  boarding,  that  they  may 
give  their  time  illimitably  to  social  dissipations.  I  have  known  such 
cases.  I  have  known  family  after  family  blasted  in  that  way — father 
and  mother  turning  their  backs  upon  all  quiet  culture  and  all  the 
amenities  of  home,  leading  forth  their  entire  family  in  the  wrong  di- 
rection. Annihilated,  worse  than  annihilated — for  there  are  some 
things  worse  than  annihilation.  I  give  you  the  history  of  more  than 
one  family  in  America,  when  I  say  that  they  went  on  in  the  dissipations 
of  social  life  until  the  father  dropped  into  a  lower  style  of  dissipation  ; 
and  after  a  while  the  son  was  tossed  out  into  society  as  a  nonenity  ;  and 
after  a  while  the  daughter  eloped  with  a  French  dancing-master  ;  and 
after  a  while  the  mother,  getting  on  further  and  further  in  years,  sought 
to  hide  her  wrinkles,  but  failed  in  the  attempt,  trying  all  the  arts  of  the 
belle — an  old  flirt ;  a  poor,  miserable  butterfly  without  wings. 

Let  me  tell  you  that  the  dissipations  of  American  life — of  social 
life  in  America — are  despoiling  the  usefulness  of  a  vast  multitude  of 
people.  What  do  those  people  care  about  the  fact  that  there  are  whole 
nations  in  sorrow  and  suffering  and  agony,  when  they  have  for  con- 
sideration the  more  important  question  of  the  size  of  a  glove,  or  the 
tie  of  a  cravat  ?  Which  one  of  them  ever  bound  up  wounds  in  the 
hospital  ?  Which  one  of  them  ever  went  out  to  care  for  the  poor  ? 
Which  of  them  do  you  find  in  the  haunts  of  sin,  distributing  tracts  ? 
They  live  on  themselves,  and  it  is  very  poor  pasture. 

Oh  !  what  a  belittling  process  to  the  human  mind  this  everlasting 
question  about  dress,  this  discussion  of  fashionable  infinitesimals,  this 
group  looking  askance  at  the  glass,  wondering,  with  an  infinity  of 
earnestness,  how  that  last  geranium  leaf  will  look,  this  shriveling  of 
a  man's  moral  dignity  until  it  is  not  observable  to  the  naked  eye,  this 
Spanish  inquisition  of  a  tight  shoe,  this  binding  up  of  a  priceless  soul 
in  a  ruffle,  this  pitching  of  the  moral  nature  over  the  rocks,  when  God 
intended  it  for  great  and  everlasting  uplifting  !  The  dissipations  of 
social  life  in  America  to-day  are  destroying  thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands  of  people,  and  it  is  time  for  pulpit  and  press  to  lift  their 
voices  against  them. 

THE    MODERN    BETHESDA. 

We  may  add  the  story  of  another  highway  of  dissipation,  that  of 
the  watering-place. 


DRESS  AND  DISSIPA  TfON.  143 

The  modern  Bethesda  was  intended  to  recuperate  the  physical 
health  ;  and  yet  how  many  come  from  the  watering-places,  with  their 
health  absolutely  destroyed  !  Think  of  New  York  and  Brooklyn  sim 
pletons  boasting  of  having  imbibed  twenty  glasses  of  Congress  water 
before  breakfast ;  of  families,  accustomed  to  go  to  bed  at  ten  o'clock  at 
night,  gossiping  until  one  or  two  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  of  dys- 
peptics, usually  very  cautious  about  their  health,  mingling  ice-creams 
and  lemons  and  lobster  salads  and  cocoanuts,  until  the  gastric  juices 
lift  up  all  their  voices  in  lamentation  and  protest ;  of  delicate  women 
and  brainless  young  men  dancing  themselves  into  vertigo  and  cata- 
lepsy ;  of  thousands  of  men  and  women  coming  back  from  our 
watering-places  in  the  autumn,  with  the  foundations  laid  for  ailments 
that  will  last  them  all  their  life  long  ! 

You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  this  is  the  simple  truth.  In  the 
summer  you  say  to  your  good  health,  "  Good-bye  ;  I  am  going  to  have 
a  gay  time  now  for  a  little  while  ;  I  will  be  very  glad  to  see  you  again 
in  the  autumn."  Then  in  the  autumn,  when  you  are  hard  at  work  in 
your  office,  or  store,  or  shop,  or  counting-room,  Good  Health  will 
come  in  and  say,  "Good-bye;  I  am  going."  You  say,  "Where  are 
you  going?"  "Oh,"  says  Good  Health,  "  I  am  going  to  take  a  vaca- 
tion." It  is  a  poor  rule  that  will  not  work  both  ways,  and  your  good 
health  will  leave  you  choleric  and  splenetic  and  exhausted.  You  co- 
quetted with  your  good  health  in  the  summer  time,  and  your  good 
health  is  coquetting  with  you  in  the  winter  time.  A  fragment  of  Paul's 
charge  to  the  jailer  would  be  an  appropriate  inscription  for  the  hotel 
register  in  every  watering-place,  "  Do  thyself  no  harm." 

Another  temptation,  hovering  all  around  our  watering-places,  is 
that  of  intoxicating  beverages.  I  am  told  that  it  is  becoming  more 
and  more  fashionable  for  women  to  drink.  I  care  not  how  well  a 
woman  may  dress,  if  she  has  taken  enough  of  wine  to  flush  her  cheek 
and  put  a  glassiness  on  her  eye,  she  is  drunk.  She  may  be  handed 
into  a  twenty-five  hundred  dollar  carriage,  and  have  diamonds  enough 
to  confound  the  Tiffanys — she  is  drunk.  She  may  be  a  graduate  of, 
Packer  Institute,  and  the  daughter  of  some  man  in  danger  of  being 
nominated  for  the  presidency — she  is  drunk.  You  may  have  a  larger 
vocabulary  than  I  have,  and  you  may  say  in  regard  to  her  that  she  is 
"convivial,"  or  she  is  "merry,"  or  she  is  "festive,"  or  she  is 


THE  PE.IMA   DONNA- 


144 


DRESS  AND  DISSIPATION.  145 

"exhilarated";  but  you  cannot,  with  all  your  garlands  of  verbiage, 
cover  up  the  plain  fact  that  it  is  an  old-fashioned  case  of  "drunk." 

Now  the  watering-places  are  full  of  temptations-  to  men  and 
women  to  tipple.  At  the  close  of  the  ten-pin  or  billiard  game,  they 
tipple.  At  the  close  of  the  cotillion,  they  tipple.  Seated  on  the  piazza 
to  cool  themselves  off,  they  tipple.  The  tinged  glasses  come  around 
with  bright  straws,  and  tney  tipple.  First,  they  take  "light  wines,"  as 
they  call  them  ;  but  "light  wines"  are  heavy  enough  to  debase  the 
appetite.  There' is' not  a  very  long  road  between  champagne  at  five 
dollars  a  bottle  and  whiskey  at  ten  cents  a  glass.  Satan  has  three  or 
four  grades  down  which  he  takes  men  to  destruction.  One  man  he 
takes  up,  and  through  one  spree  pitches1  him  into  eternal  darkness. 
That  is  a  rare  case.  Very  seldom,  indeed,  can  you  find  a  man  who 
will  be  such  a  fool  as  that.  Satan  will  take  another  man  to  a  steep 
grade,  at  an  angle  about  like  that  of  the  Pennsylvania  coal-shoot  or 
the  Mount  Washington  rail-track,  and  shove  him  off.  But  that  is  very 
rare. 

When  a  man  goes  down  to  destruction,  Satan  brings  him  to  a 
plain.  It  is  almost  a  level.  The  depression  is  so  slight  that  you  can 
hardly  see  it.  The  man  does  not  actually  know  that  he  is  on  the  down 
grade,  and  it  tips  only  a  little  toward  darkness — just  a  little.  And  the 
first  mile  it  is  claret,  and  the  second  mile  it  is  sherry,  and  the  third 
mile  it  is  a  punch,  and  the  fourth  mile  it  is  ale,  and  the  fifth  mile  it  is 
porter,  and  the  sixth  mile  it  is  brandy,  and  then  it  gets  steeper,  and 
steeper,  and  steeper,  and  the  man  gets  frightened,  and  says,  "  Oh,  let 
me  off".  .  "  No,"  says  the  conductor,  "this  is  an  express  train,  arid  it 
don't  stop  until  it  gets  to  the.  Grand  Central .  Depot  of  Smashuptbn !" 
Ah,  "Look  not  thou  upon  the  wine  when.it  is  red,  when  it  giveth 
its  color  in  the  cup,  .when  it  moveth  itself  aright.  At  the  last  it  biteth 
like  a  serpent,  and  stingeth  like  an  adder." 

My  friends,  whether  you  tarry  at  home — which  will  be  quite  as 
safe,  and  perhaps  quite  as  comfortable — or  go  into  the  country,  arm 
yourself  against  temptation.  The  grace  of  God  is  the  only  safe 
shelter,  whether  in  town  or  country. 


10 


MEMORY  OF  OTHER  DAYS 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


A  FEW  days  ago,  with  my  sister  and  brother,  I  visited  the  place  of 
my  boyhood.  It  was  one  of  the  most  emotional  and  absorbing 
days  of  my  life.  There  stood  the  old  house,  and  as  I  went 
through  the  rooms,  I  said,  "I  could  find  my  way  here  with  my  eyes 
shut,  although  I  have  not  been  here  in  forty  years."  There  v/as  the 
sitting-room  where  a  large  family  group  had  every  evening  gathered, 
the  most  of  them  now  in  a  better  world.  There  was  the  old  barn 
where  we  hunted  for  Easter  eggs,  and  the  place  where  the  horses 
stood.  There  is  where  the  orchard  was,  only  three  or  four  trees  now 
left  of  all  the  grove  that  once  bore  apples — and  such  apples,  too! 
There  is  the  brook  down  which  we  rode  to  the  watering  of  the  horse* 
bareback,  and  with  a  rope  halter.  We  also  visited  the  cemetery  where 
many  of  our  kindred  are  waiting  for  the  resurrection,  the  old  people 
side  by  side,  after  a  journey  together  of  sixty  years,  only  about  three 
years  between  the  time  of  their  going.  There  also  sleep  the  dear  old 
neighbors  who  used  to  tie  their  horses  under  the  shed  of  the  country 
meeting-house  and  sit  at  the  end  of  the  pew,  singing  "  Duke  Street," 
and  "Balerma,"  and  "  Antioch."  I  feel  that  my  journey  and  visit  last 
week  did  me  good,  and  it  would  do  you  all  good,  if  not  in  person  then 
in  thought,  to  revisit  the  scenes  of  boyhood  or  girlhood.  "  Thou  shalt 
remember  all  the  way  which  the  Lord  thy  God  led  thee." 

THE    DOUBLE    OUTLOOK. 

Youth  is  apt  to  spend  all  its  time  in  looking  forward.  Old  age  is 
apt  to  spend  all  its  time  in  looking  backward.  People  in  mid-life  and 
on  the  apex  look  both  ways.  Yet  it  would  be  well  for  us,  I  think,  to 
spend  more  time  in  reminiscence.  By  the  constitution  of  our  natures 
we  spend  most  of  the  time  looking  forward,  and  the  vast  majority  of 
people  live  not  so  much  in  the  present  as  in  the  future.  You  mean  to 
make  a  reputation,  you  mean  to  establish  yourself,  and  the  advantages 
(146) 


v 


FOR  "BOTHER."' 


^  HE  old  man  sits  in  his  easy  chair 
\6V  Slumbering  the  moments  away, 

Dreaming  a  dream  that  is  all  his  own 

On  this  gladsome  Christmas  day. 
His  children  have  gathered  from  far  and  near, 

His  children's  children  beside, 
And  merry  voices  are  echoing  through 
The  "  Homestead's"  halls  so  wide. 

But  far  away  in  the  years  long  flown, 

Grandfather  lives  again  ; 
And  his  heart  forgets  that  it  ever  knew 

A  shadow  of  grief  or  pain. 
For  he  sees  his  wife  as  he  saw  her  then, 

A  matron,  comely  and  fair, 
With  her  children  gathered  around  his  board, 

And  never  a  vacant  chair. 

Oh  !  happy  dream  of  the  "  Auld  lang  syne," 

Of  the  years  long  slipped  away  ; 
And  the  old  man's  lips  have  gathered  a  smile, 

And  his  heart  grows  young  and  gay. 
But  a  kiss  falls  gently  upon  his  brow 

From  his  daughter's  lips  so  true  : 
"  Dinner  is  ready,  father,  dear  ; 

We  are  only  waiting  for  you." 

The  old  man  wakes  at  his  daughter's  call 

And  looks  at  the  table  near  : 
"There's  one  of  us  missing,  my  child,"  he  says  ; 

"Call  mother — she  is  not  here  !  " 
There  are  tears  in  the  eyes  of  the  children  then, 

As  they  gaze  on  the  empty  chair  ; 
For  many  a  lonely  year  has  passed 

Since  "  Mother  "  sat  with  them  there. 

But  the  old  man  pleads  still  wistfully, 

"  We  must  wait  for  mother,  you  know  ! " 
So  they  let  him  rest  in  his  old  armchair 

Till  at  last  the  sun  sinks  low. 
Then,  leaving  a  smile  for  his  children  here, 

He  turns  from  the  earth  away, 
And  has  gone  to  "  Mother  "  beyond  the  skies, 

With  the  close  of  the  Christmas  day. 


HOME  IS  A  SHELTER  FROM  THE  WINTRY  BLAST" 


148 


tt 

o 

o 

w 

w 


CHRIST  i-JUiACHlMG   FROM  A  BOAT. 


O 

HH 

Q 
O 

X 

Pu. 

tt 

a 


tt 


MEMORY  OF  OTHER  DAYS. 


149 


that  you  expect  to  achieve  absorb  a  great  deal  of  your  time.  I  see  no 
harm  in  this,  if  it  does  not  make  you  discontented  with  the  present  or 
disqualify  you  for  existing  duties.  But  it  is  a  useful  thing  sometimes 
to  look  back,  and  to  see  the  dangers  we  have  escaped,  and  to  see  the 
sorrows  we  have  suffered,  and  the  trials  and  wanderings  of  our  earthly 
pilgrimage,  and  to  sum  up  our  enjoyments. 

There  is  a  chapel  in  Florence  with  a  fresco  by  Guido.  It  was 
covered  up  with  two  inches  of  stucco  until  our  American  and  European 
artists  went  there,  and  after  long  toil  removed  the  covering  and  retraced 


THE  OLD  HOME. 

the  fresco.  And  I  am  aware  that  the  memory  of  the  past,  with  many 
of  my  readers,  is  all  covered  up  with  ten  thousand  obliterations.  I 
propose  to  take  away  the  covering,  that  the  old  picture  may  shine  out 
again.  I  want  to  bind  in  one  sheaf  all  your  past  advantages,  and  I 
want  to  bind  in  another  sheaf  all  your  past  adversities.  It  is  a  precious 
harvest,  and  I  must  be  cautious  how  I  swing  the  scythe. 

THE    EARLY    HOME. 

Among  the  greatest  advantages  of  your  past  life  was  an   early 
home  and  its  surroundings,    The  bad  men  of  the  day,  for  the  mosl 


150  MEMORY  OF  OTHER  DAYS. 

part,  dip  their  heated  passions  out  of  the  boiling  spring  of  an  unhappy 
home.  We  are  not  surprised  to  find  that  Byron's  heart  was  a  concentra- 
tion of  sin,  when  we  hear  that  his  mother  was  abandoned,  and  that  she 
made  sport  of  his  infirmity,  and  often  called  him  "  the  lame  brat."  He 
who  has  vicious  parents  has  to  fight  every  inch  of  his  way,  if  he  would 
maintain  his  integrity  and  at  last  reach  the  home  of  the  good  in  heaven. 

Perhaps  your  early  home  was  in  the  city.  It  may  have  been  in 
the  days  when  Canal  street,  New  York,  was  far  up-town.  That  old 
house  in  the  city  may  have  been  demolished  or  changed  into  stores, 
and  it  seemed  like  sacrilege  to  you,  for  there  was  more  meaning  in  that 
plain,  small  house,  than  there  is  in  a  granite  mansion  or  a  turreted 
cathedral.  Looking  back  this  morning,  you  see  it  as  though  it  were 
yesterday — the  sitting-room,  where  the  loved  ones  sat  by  the  plain 
lamplight,  the  mother  at  the  evening  stand,  the  brothers  and  sisters 
plotting  mischief  on  the  floor  or  under  the  table,  your  father  with  a  firm 
voice  commanding  a  silence — that  lasted  half  a  minute  ! 

Oh,  those  were  good  days  !  If  you  had  your  foot  hurt,  -your 
mother  always  had  a  soothing  salve  to  heal  it.  If  you  were  wronged 
in  the  street,  your  father  was  always  ready  to  protect  you.  The  year 
was  one  round  of  frolic  and  mirth.  Your  greatest  trouble  was  like  an 
April  shower,  more  sunshine  than  shower.  The  heart  had  not  been 
ransacked  by  troubles,  nor  had  sickness  broken  it,  and  no  lamb  had  a 
warmer  sheepfold  than  the  home  in  which  your  childhood  nestled. 

Perhaps  you  were  brought  up  in  the  country.  You  stand  now,  in 
memory,  under  the  old  tree.  You  clubbed  it  for  fruit  that  was  not 
quite  ripe  because  you  couldn't  wait  any  longer.  You  hear  the  brook 
rumbling  along  over  the  pebbles.  You  step  again  into  the  furrow 
where  your  father  in  his  shirt  sleeves  shouted  to  the  lazy  oxen.  You 
frighten  the  swallows  from  the  rafters  of  the  barn,  and  take  just  one 
egg,  and  silence  your  conscience  by  saying  they  won't  miss  it.  You 
take  a  drink  again  out  of  the  very  bucket  that  the  old  well  fetched  up.* 
You  go  for  the  cows  at  night,  and  find  them  wagging  their  heads - 
through  the  bars.  Ofttimes  in  the  dusty  and  busy  streets  you  wish  you 
were  home  again  on  that  cool  grass,  or  in  the  rag-carpeted  hall  of  the 
farmhouse,  through  which  there  was  the  breath  of  new-mown  hay  or 
the  blossom  of  buckwheat. 

You  may  have  in  your  windows  now  beautiful  plants  and  flowers 
brought  from  across  the  seas,  but  not  one  of  them  stirs  in  your  soul  so 


HEN 


HEGIVETH 
QUIETNESS, 
\tfHO  THEN* 

AW 

TRpl/BLE? 


THOU  WILT  KEEP  HIM  IN  PERFECT  PEACE" 


151 


THE    CHILDREN. 


Bring  them  into  the  sunshine, 
Out  of  the  gloomy  night ; 

Out  of  the  perilous  places — 
Bring  them  into  the  light. 


Show  them  the  pathway  of  duty, 
That  upward  their  feet  may 

tread ; 
That  "Of  such  is  the  Kingdom 

of  Heaven," 
May  still,  as  of  old,  be  said. 


"SUFFER  THEM  TO  COME  UNTO  ME." 


MEM  OR  Y  OF  O  THER  DA  VS.  '  *  5  3 

much  charm  and  memory  as  the  old  ivy  arid  the  yellow  sunflower  that 
stood  sentinel  along  the  garden  wall,  and  the  forget-me-nots  playing 
hide-and-seek  'mid  the  long  grass.  The  father,  who  used  to  come  in 
sunburnt  from  the  fields  and  sit  down  on  the  door-sill  and  wipe  the 
sweat  from  his  brow,  may  have  gone  to  his  everlasting  rest.  The 
mother,  who  used  to  sit  at  the  door  a  little  bent  over,  cap  and  spec 
tacles  on,  her  face  mellowing  with  the  vicissitudes  of  many  years,  may 
have  put  down  her  gray  head  on  the  pillow  in  the  valley ;  but  forget 
that  home  you  never  will.  Have  you  thanked  God  for  it?  Have  you 
rehearsed  all  these  blessed  reminiscences?  Oh,  thank  God  for  a 
Christian  father  ;  thank  God  for  a  Christian  mother  ;  thank  God  for  ar 
early  Christian  altar  at  which  you  were  taught  to  kneel ;  thank  God 
for  an  early  Christian  home. 

NEW    MARRIED    LIFE. 

I  bring  to  mind  another  passage  in  the  history  of  your  life.  The 
day  came  when  you  set  up  your  own  household.  The  days  passed 
along  in  quiet  blessedness.  You  twain  sat  at  the  table  morning  and 
night  and  talked  over  your  plans  for  the  future.  The  most  insignificant 
affair  in  your  life  became  the  subject  of  mutual  consultation  and  ad- 
visement. You  were  so  happy  that  you  felt  you  never  could  be  any 
happier.  One  day  a  dark  cloud  hovered  over  your  dwelling  and:it  got 
darker  and  darker,  but  out  of  that  cloud  the  shining  messenger  of  God 
descended  to  incarnate  a  beautiful  spirit.  Two  little  feet  started  on  an 
eventful  journey,  and  you  were  to  lead  them — a  gem  to  flash  in 
heaven's  coronet,  and  you  to  polish  it — eternal  ages  of  light  and  dark- 
ness watching  the  starting  out  of  a  newly  created  creature. 

You  rejoiced  and  you  trembled  at  the  responsibility  that  in  your 
possession  a  priceless  treasure  was  placed.  You  prayed  and  rejoiced, 
and  wept  and  wondered,  and  prayed  and  rejoiced,  and  wept  and  won- 
dered ;  you  were  earnest  in  supplication  that  you  might  lead  it  through 
life  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  There  was  a  tremor  in  your  earnestness. 
There  was  a  double  interest  about  that  home.  There  was  an  additional 
reason  why  you  should  stay  there  and  be  faithful,  and  when  in  a  few 
months  your  house  was  filled  with  the  music  of  the  child's  laughter,  you 
were  struck  through  with  the  fact  that  you  had  a  stupendous  mission. 

Have  you  kept  that  vow?  Have  you  neglected  any  of  those 
duties  ?  Is  your  home  as  much  to  you  as  it  used  to  be  ?  Have 


154  MEMOR  Y  OF  O  THER  DA  YS. 

anticipations  been  gratified  ?  God  help  you  in  your  solemn  reminiscence, 
and  let  his  mercy  fall  upon  your  soul  if  your  kindness  has  been  ill  re- 
quited. God  have  mercy  on  the  parent  on  the  wrinkles  of  whose  face 
is  written  the  story  of  a  child's  sin  !  God  have  mercy  on  the  mother 
who,  in  addition  to  her  other  pangs,  has  the  pangs  of  a  child's  iniquity. 
Oh,  there  are  many,  many  sad  sounds  in  this  sad  world,  but  the  saddes) 
sound  that  is  ever  heard  is  the  breaking  of  a  mother's  heart. 

THE    GRACIOUS    CHANGE. 

I  find  another  point  in  your  life-history.  You  found  one  day  that 
you  were  in  the  wrong  road  ;  you  couldn't  sleep  at  night ;  there  was 
just  one  word  that  seemed  to  sob  through  your  banking-house,  or 
through  your  office,  or  through  your  shop,  or  your  bed-room,  and  that 
word  was,  "  Eternity."  You  said,  "A  am  not  ready  for  it.  O  God,  have 
mercy."  The  Lord  heard.  Peace  came  to  your  heart.  In  the  breath 
of  the  hill  and  the  waterfall's  dash  you  heard  the  voice  of  God's  love; 
the  clouds  and  the  trees  hailed  you  with  gladness  ;  you  came  into  the 
house  of  God. 

You  remember  how  your  hand  trembled  as  you  took  up  the  cup 
of  the  Communion.  You  remember  the  old  minister  who  consecrated 
it,  and  you  remember  the  church  officials  who  carried  it  through  the 
aisle ;  you  remember  the  old  people  who  at  the  close  of  the  service 
took  your  hand  in  theirs  in  congratulating  sympathy,  as  much  as  to  say : 
"Welcome  home,  you  lost  prodigal ;"  and  though  those  hands  are 
all  withered  away,  that  Communion  Sabbath  is  resurrected  in  your 
memory ;  it  is  resurrected  with  all  its  prayers,  and  songs,  and  tears, 
and  sermons,  and  transfiguration.  Have  you  kept  those  vows  ? 

SHADOWS    OF    SORROW. 

But  some  of  you  have  not  always  had  a  smooth  life.  Some  of  you 
are  now  in  the  shadow.  Others  had  their  troubles  years  ago,  and  you 
are  a  mere  wreck  of  what  you  once  were.  I  must  gather  up  the  sor- 
rows of  your  past  life  ;  but  how  shall  I  do  it  ?  You  say  that  is  impos- 
sible, as  you  have  had  so  many  troubles  and  adversities.  Then  I  will 
just  take  two,  the  first  trouble  and  the  last  trouble.  As  when  you  are 
walking  along  the  street,  and  there  has  been  music  in  the  distance, 
you  unconsciously  find  yourself  keeping  step  to  the  music,  so  when 
you  started  life  your  very  life  was  a  musical  timebeat,  The  air  was 


MEMORY  OF  OTHER  DAYS.  155 

full  of  joy  and  hilarity ;  with  the  bright  clear  oar  you  made  the  boat 
skip  ;  you  went  on,  and  life  grew  brighter  until  after  a  while  suddenly 
a  voice  from  heaven  said,  "Halt!"  and  quick  as  the  sunshine  you 
halted;  you  grew  pale  ;  you  confronted  your  first  sorrow.  You  had 
no  idea  that  the  flush  on  your  child's  cheek  was  an  unhealthy  flush. 
You  said,  "  It  can't  be  anything  serious."  Death  in  slippered  feet 
walked  roundabout  the  cradle.  You  did  not  hear  the  tread  ;  but  after 
a  while  the  truth  flashed  on  you.  You  walked  the  floor.  Oh,  if  you 
could,  with  your  strong,  stout  hand,  have  wrenched  that  child  from 
the  destroyer !  You  went  to  your  room  and  said,  "  God,  save 
my  child !  God,  save  my  child !"  The  world  seemed  going  out 
in  darkness.  You  said,  "I  can't  bear  it ;  I  can't  bear  it."  You  felt 
as  if  you  could  not  put  the  long  lashes  over  the  bright  eyes,  never 
to  see  them  again  sparkle.  Oh,  if  you  could  have  taken  that  little 
one  in  your  arms  and  with  it  leaped  the  grave,  how  gladly  you  would 
have  done  it !  Oh,  if  you  could  have  let  your  property  go,  your 
houses  go,  your  land  and  your  store-house  go,  how  gladly  you  would 
have  allowed  them  to  depart  if  you  could  only  have  kept  that  one 
treasure  ! 

But  one  day  there  arose  from  the  heavens  a  chill  blast  that  swept 
over  the  bed-room,  and  instantly  all  the  light  went  out.  There  was 
darkness — thick,  murky,  impenetrable,  shuddering  darkness.  But  God 
didn't  leave  you  there.  Mercy  spoke.  As  you  took  up  the  cup  and 
were  about  to  put  it  to  your  lips,  God  said,  "  Let  it  pass,"  and  forthwith, 
as  by  the  hand  of  angels,  another  cup  was  put  into  your  hands  ;  it  was 
the  cup  of  God's  consolation.  As  you  have  sometimes  lifted  the  head 
of  a  wounded  soldier,  and  poured  wine  into  his  lips,  so  God  put  his 
left  arm  under  your  head,  and  with  his  right  hand  He  poured  into  your 
lips  the  wine  of  his  comfort  and  his  consolation  ;  and  you  looked  at  the 
empty  cradle  and  looked  at  your  broken  heart,  and  you  looked  at  the 
Lord's  chastisement,  and  you  said,  "Even  so,  Father,  for  so  it  seemeth 
good  in  Thy  sight."  \ 

Ah,  it  was  your  first  trouble.  How  did  you  get  over  it  ?  God 
comforted  you.  You  have  been  a  better  man  ever  since.  You  have 
been  a  better  woman  ever  since.  In  the  jar  of  the  closing  gate  of  the 
sepulcher  you  heard  the  clanging  of  the  opening  gate  of  heaven,  and 
you  felt  an  irresistible  drawing  heavenward.  You  have  been  purer  of 
mind  ever  since  that  night  when  the  little  one  for  the  last  time  put  its 


.  r56  MEMORY  OP  OTHER  DAYS. 

arms  around  your  neck,   and  said :  "  Good-night,   papa ;  good-night, 
mamma.     Meet  me  in  heaven." 

LATEST   TRIALS. 

But  I  must  come  down  to  your  latest  sorrow.  What  was  it? 
Perhaps  it  was  your  own  sickness.  The  child's  tread  on  the  stair,  or  the 
/tick  of  the  watch  on  the  stand  disturbed  you.  Through  the  long  weary 
days  you  counted  the  figures  in  the  carpet  or  the  flowers  in  the  wall- 
paper. Oh,  the  weariness,  the  exhaustion  !  Oh,  the  burning  pangs ! 
Would  God  it  were  morning,  would  God  it  were  night,  was  your  fre- 
quent cry.  But  you  are  better,  or  perhaps  even  well.  Have  you 
thanked  God  for  his  restoring  mercy  ? 

Perhaps  your  last  sorrow  was  a  financial  embarrassment.  I  con- 
gratulate some  of  you  on  your  lucrative  profession  or  occupation,  on 
ornate  apparel,  on  a  commodious  residence — everything  you  put  your 
hands  to  seems  to  turn  to  gold.  But  there  are  others  of  you  who  are 
like  the  ship  on  which  Paul  sailed,  where  two  seas  met,  and  you  are 
broken  by  the  violence  of  the  waves.  By  an  unadvised  indorsement, 
or  by  a  conjunction  of  unforeseen  events,  or  by  fire,  or  storm,  or  a 
senseless  panic,  you  have  beerr  flung  headlong,  and  where  you  once 
dispensed  great  charities,  now  you  have  hard  work  to  make  the  two 
ends  meet.  Have  you  forgotten  to  thank  God  for  your  days  of  pros- 
perity, and  that  through  your  trials  some  of  you  have  made  investments 
which  will  continue  after  the  last  bank  of  this  world  has  exploded,  and 
the  silver  and  gold  are  molten  in  the  fires  of  a  burning  world  ?  Have 
you,  amid  all  your  losses  and  discouragements,  forgotten  that  there 
was  bread  on  your  table  this  morning,  and  that  there  shall  be  a  shelter 
for  your  head  from  the  storm,  and  that  there  is  air  for  your  lungs,  and 
blood  for  your  heart,  and  light  for  your  eye,  and  a  glad  and  glorious 
and  triumphant  religion  for  your  soul? 

Perhaps  your  last  trouble  was  a  bereavement.  That  heart  which  in 
childhood  was  your  refuge — the  parental  heart — and  which  has  been  a 
source  of  the  quickest  sympathy  ever  since,  has  suddenly  become 
silent  forever ;  and  now  sometimes,  whenever  in  sudden  annoyance 
and  without  deliberation  you  say,  "I  will  go  and  tell  mother,"  the 
thought  flashes  on  you:  "/  have  no  mother!"  Or  the  father,  with 
voice  less  tender,  but  as  stanch  and  earnest  and  loving  as  ever,  watch- 
ful of  all  your  ways,  exultant  over  your  success  without  saying  much, 


FINDING  OF  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 


THE  GUARDIAN  OF  CHILDHOOD. 


GATEWAY   TO  THE  GREAT   MOSQUE   IN    DAMASCUS. 


MEMORY  OF  OTHER  DAYS.- 


'57 


although  the  old  people  do  talk  it  over  by  themselves,  his  trembling 
hand  on  that  staff  which  you  now  keep  as  a  family  relic,  his  memory 
embalmed  in  grateful  hearts,  is  taken  away  forever.  Or  your  com- 
panion in  life,  the  sharer  of  your  joys  and  sorrows,  was  taken,  leaving 
the  heart  a  dreary  ruin, where  the  chill  winds  blow  over  a  wide  wilderness 
of  desolation,  the  sands  of  the  desert  driving  across  the  place  which 
once  bloomed  like  the  garden  of  God.  And  Abraham  mourns  for 


THE  SICK-ROOM. 

Sarah  at  the  cave  of  Machpelah.  Going  along  your  path  in  life,  sud- 
denly, right  before  you,  was  an  open  grave.  People  looked  down  and 
they  saw  it  was  only  a  few  feet  deep  and  a  few  feet  wide,  but  to  you 
it  was  a  cavern  down  which  went  all  your  hopes  and  all  your  expectations. 

CONSOLATION. 

But  cheer  up  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Comforter. 
He  is  not  going  to  forsake  you.  Did  the  Lord  take  that  child  out  of 
your  arms?  Why,  He  is  going  to  shelter  it  better  than  you  could.  He 


158  MEMORY  OF  OTHER  DAYS. 

is  going  to  array  it  in  a  white  robe,  and  with  palm-branch  it  will  be  all 
ready  to  greet  you  at  your  coming  home.  Blessed  the  broken  heart 
that  Jesus  heals.  Blessed  the  importunate  cry  that  Jesus  compassion- 
ates. Blessed  the  weeping  eye  from  which  the  soft  hand  of  Jesus  wipes 
away  the  tear. 

I  was  sailing  down  the  St.  John  river,  Canada,  which  is  the  Rhine 
and  the  Hudson  commingled  in  one  scene  of  beauty  and  grandeur,  and 
while  I  was  on  the  deck  of  the  steamer,  a  gentleman  pointed  out  to 
me  the  places  of  interest.  He  said:  "All  this  is  interval  land,  and  it 
is  the  richest  land  in  all  the  provinces  of  New  Brunswick  and  Nova 
Scotia." 

"What,"  said  I,  "do  you  mean  by  interval  land?"  "Well,"  he 
said,  "this  land  is  submerged  for  a  part  of  the  year;  spring  freshets 
come  down,  and  all  these  plains  are  overflowed  with  the  water,  and 
the  water  leaves  a  rich  deposit,  and  when  the  waters  are  gone  the  har- 
vest springs  up,  and  there  is  the  grandest  harvest  that  was  ever 
reaped."  And  I  instantly  thought :  "  It  is  not  the  heights  of  the  church 
and  it  is  not  the  heights  of  this  world  that  are  the  scene  of  the  greatest 
prosperity,  but  the  soul  over  which  the  floods  of  sorrow  have  gone,  the 
soul  over  which  the  freshets  of  tribulation  have  torn  their  way,  that 
yields  the  greatest  fruits  of  righteousness,  and  the  largest  harvest  for 
time,  and  the  richest  harvest  for  eternity."  Bless  God  that  your  soul 
is  interval  land. 

There  will  yet  be  one  more  point  of  tremendous  reminiscence, 
and  that  is  the  last  hour  of  life,  when  we  have  to  look  over  all  our  past 
existence.  What  a  moment  that  will  be  !  I  place  Napoleon's  dying 
reminiscence  on  St.  Helena  beside  Mrs.  Judson's  dying  reminiscence 
in  the  harbor  of  St.  Helena,  the  same  island,  twenty  years  after. 
Napoleon's  dying  reminiscence  was  one  of  delirium:  "Head  of  the 
army."  Mrs.  Judson's  dying  reminiscence,  as  she  came  home  from  her 
missionary  toil  and  her  life  of  self-sacrifice  for  God,  dying  in  the  cabin 
of  the  ship  in  the  harbor  of  St.  Helena,  was:  "I  always  did  love  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ."  And  then,  the  historian  says,  she  fell  into  a  sound 
sleep  for  an  hour,  and  woke  amid  the  songs  of  angels. 

I  place  the  dying  reminiscence  of  Augustus  Caesar  against  the 
dying  reminiscence  of  the  Apostle  Paul.  The  dying  reminiscence  of 
Augustus  Csesar  was,  addressing  his  attendants  :  "  Have  I  played 
my  part  well  on  the  stage  of  life?"  and  they  answered  him  in  the 


MEMORY  OF  OTHER  DAYS.  1 59 

affirmative,  and  he  said  :  "Why,  then,  don't  you  applaud  me?"  The  dying 
reminiscence  of  Paul  the  Apostle  was  :  "  I  have  fought  a  good  fight; 
I  have  finished  my  course  ;  I  have  kept  the  faith  ;  henceforth  there  is 
laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  righteous 
Judge,  will  give  me  in  that  day,  and  not  to  me  only,  but  to  all  them 
also  that  love  his  appearing."  Augustus  Caesar  died  amid  pomp  and 
great  surroundings.  Paul  uttered  his  dying  reminiscence  looking  up 
through  the  wall  of  a  dungeon.  God  grant  that  our  last  hour  may  be 
the  closing  of  a  useful  life,  and  the  opening  of  a  glorious  eternity ! 


SCHOOL  OF  BUSINESS 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


WE  are  under  the  impression  that  the  moil  and  tug  of  business 
life  are  a  prison  into  which  a  man  is  thrust,  or  that  they  are  an 
unequal  strife  where,  unarmed,  a  man  goes  forth  to  contend. 
Yet  business  life  was  intended  of  God  for  grand  and  glorious  educa- 
tion and  discipline,  and  it  is  my  earnest  wish  to  rub  some  of  the  wrin- 
kles of  care  out  of  your  brow,  and  unstrap  some  of  the  burdens  from 
your  back. 

Dr.  Duff  visited  South  Wales,  and  there  saw  a  man  who  had  in- 
herited a  great  fortune.  The  man  said  to  him  :  "I  had  to  be  very  busy 
for  many  years  of  my  life  getting  my  livelihood.  After  a  while  this  for- 
tune came  to  me,  and  there  has  been  no  necessity  that  I  should  toil 
since.  There  came  a  time  when  I  said  to  myself,  '  Shall  I  now  retire 
from  business,  or  shall  I  go  on  and  serve  the  Lord  in  my  worldly 
occupation?"  He  continued  :  "I  resolved  on  the  latter,  and  I  have 
been  more  industrious  in  commercial  circles  than  I  ever  was  before, 
but  since  that  hour  I  have  never  kept  a  farthing  for  myself.  I  have 
thought  it  would  be  a  great  shame  if  I  couldn't  toil  as  hard  for  the  Lord 
as  I  had  toiled  for  myself,  and  all  the  profits  of  my  factories  and  my  com- 
mercial establishments,  to  the  last  farthing,  have  gone  for  the  building 
of  Christian  institutions  and  supporting  the  Church  of  God."  Oh,  if 
the  same  energy  put  forth  for  the  world  could  be  put  forth  for  God ! 
Oh,  if  a  thousand  men  in  these  great  cities  who  have  achieved  a  fortune 
could  see  it  to  be  their  duty  now  to  do  all  business  for  Christ  and  the 
alleviation  of  the  world's  suffering ! 

Business  life  is  a  school  of  patience.  In  your  everyday  life  how 
many  things  there  are  to  annoy  and  to  disquiet !  Bargains  will  rub. 
Commercial  men  will  sometimes  fail  to  meet  their  engagement* 


SCHOOL  OF  BUSINESS.  161 

Cash-book  and  money-drawer  will  sometimes  quarrel.  Goods  ordered 
for  a  special  emergency  will  come  too  late,  or  be  damaged  in  the 
transportation. 

Business  life  is  a  school  of  useful  knowledge.  Merchants  do  not 
read  many  books,  and  do  not  study  lexicons.  They  do  not  dive  into 
the  profounds  of  learning,  and  yet  nearly  all  through  their  occupations 
they  come  to  understand  questions  of  finance,  and  politics,  and  geog- 
raphy, and  jurisprudence,  and  ethics.  Business  is  a  severe  schoolmis- 
tress. If  pupils  will  not  learn,  she  strikes  them  over  the  head  and  heart 
with  severe  losses.  You  put  $5,000  into  an  enterprise.  It  is  all  gone. 
You  say,  "  That  is  a  dead  loss."  Oh,  no.  You  are  paying  the  school- 
ing. That  was  only  tuition,  very  large  tuition — I  told  you  it  was  a 
severe  schoolmistress — but  it  was  worth  it.  You  learned  things  under 
that  process  you  would  not  have  learned  in  any  other  way. 

Traders  in  grain  come  to  know  something  about  foreign  harvests; 
traders  in  fruit  come  to  know  something  about  the  prospects  of  tropical 
productions  ;  manufacturers  of  American  goods  come  to  understand 
the  tariff  on  imported  articles  ;  publishers  of  books  must  come  to 
understand  the  new  law  of  copyright ;  owners  of  ships  must  come  to 
know  winds  and  shoals  and  navigation  ;  and  every  bale  of  cotton,  and 
every  raisin-cask,  and  every  tea-box,  and  every  cluster  of  bananas  is  so 
much  literature  for  a  business  man. 

Now,  my  brother,  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  this  intelligence  ? 
Do  you  suppose  God  put  you  in  this  school  of  information  merely  that 
you  might  be  a  sharper  in  a  trade,  that  you  might  be  more  successful 
as  a  worldling  ?  Oh,  no  ;  it  was  that  you  might  take  that  useful  infor- 
mation and  use  it  for  Jesus  Christ.  Can  it  be  that  you  have  been  deal- 
ing with  foreign  lands  and  never  had  the  missionary  spirit,  wishing  for 
the  salvation  of  foreign  peoples  ?  Can  it  be  that  you  have  become  ac- 
quainted with  all  the  outrages  inflicted  in  business  life,  and  that  you 
have  never  tried  to  bring  to  bear  that  Gospel  which  is  to  extirpate  all 
evils  and  correct  all  wrongs,  and  illuminate  all  darkness  and  lift  up  all 
wretchedness,  and  save  men  for  this  world  and  the  world  to  come  ? 
Can  it  be,  that  understanding  all  the  intricacies  of  business,  you  know 
nothing  about  those  things  which  will  last  after  all  bills  of  exchange 
and  consignments  and  invoices  and  rent-rolls  shall  have  crumpled  up 
and  been  consumed  in  the  fires  of  the  last  great  day  ?  Can  it  be  that 

a  man  will  be  wise  for  time,  and  a  fool  for  eternity  ? 
11 


162  SCHOOL  OF  BUSINESS. 

There  are  men  who  have  fought  the  battle  and  gained  the  victory. 
People  come  out  of  such  a  man's  store,  and  they  say  :  "  Well,  if  there 
ever  was  a  Christian  trader,  that  is  one."  Integrity  kept  the  books 
and  waited  on  the  customers.  Licrht  from  the  eternal  world  flashed 

o 

through  the  show-windows.  Love  to  God  and  love  to  man  presided  in 
that  storehouse.  Some  day  people  going  through  the  street  notice 
that  the  shutters  of  the  window  are  not  down.  The  bar  of  the  store- 
door  has  not  been  removed.  People  say  :  "What  is  the  matter?"  You 
go  up  a  little  closer,  and  you  see  written  on  the  card  of  that  window, 
"  Closed  on  account  of  the  death  of  one  of  the  firm."  That  day  all 
through  the  circles  of  business  there  is  talk  about  how  good  a  man  has 
gone.  Boards  of  trade  pass  resolutions  of  sympathy,  and  churches  of 
Christ  pray,  "  Help,  Lord,  for  the  godly  man  ceaseth."  He  has  made 
his  last  bargain,  he  has  suffered  his  last  loss,  he  has  ached  with  th~  last 
fatigue.  His  children  w'll  get  the  result  of  his  industry,  or,  if  through 
misfortune  there  be  no  dollars  left,  they  will  have  an  estate  of  prayer 
and  Christian  example,  which  will  be  everlasting.  Heavenly  rewards 
for  earthly  discipline.  There  "  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and 
the  weary  are  at  rest." 

GRIP,    GOUGE    &    CO. 

You  hear  that  it  is  avarice  which  drives  men  of  business  through 
the  street,  and  that  is  the  commonly  accepted  idea.  I  do  not  believe 
a  word  of  it.  The  vast  multitude  of  these  business  men  are  toiling  on  for 
others.  To  educate  their  children,  to  put  the  wing  of  protection  over 
their  households,  to  have  something  left  so  that  when  they  pass  out  of 
this  life  their  wives  and  children  will  not  have  to  go  to  the  poor-house, 
that  is  the  way  I  translate  this  energy  in  the  street  and  store — the 
vast  majority  of  this  energy. 

Grip,  Gouge  &  Co.  do  not  do  all  the  business.  Some  of  us  re- 
member that  when  the  Central  America  was  coming  home  from  Cali- 
fornia it  was  wrecked.  President  Arthur's  father-in-law  was  the  heroic 
captain  of  that  ship,  and  went  down  with  most  of  the  passengers.  Some 
of  them  got  off  into  the  life-boats.  There  was  a  young  man  returning 
from  California  who  had  a  bag  of  gold  in  his  hand  ;  and  as  the  last 
boat  shoved  off  from  the  ship  that  was  to  go  down,  that  young  man 
shouted  to  a  comrade  in  the  boat :  "  Here,  John,  catch  this  gold;  there 
are  three  thousand  dollars  ;  take  it  home  to  my  old  mother ;  it  will 


SCHOOL   OF  BUSINESS.  »  163 

make  her  comfortable  in  her  last  days."  Grip,  Gouge  &  Co.  do  not 
do  all  the  business  of  the  world. 

Ah  !  my  friend,  do  you  say  that  God  does  not  care  anything  about 
your  worldly  business  ?  I  tell  you  God  knows  more  about  it  than  you 
do.  He  knows  your  perplexities  ;  He  knows  what  mortgagee  is  about 
to  foreclose  ;  He  knows  what  note  you  cannot  pay ;  He  knows  what 
unsalable  goods  you  have  on  your  shelves  $  He  knows  all  your  trials, 
from  the  day  you  took  hold  of  your  first  yard-stick  down  to  the  sale  of 
that  last  yard  of  ribbon  ;  and  the  God  who  helped  David  to  be  king, 
and  who  helped  Daniel  to  be  prime-minister,  and  who  helped  Havelock 
to  be  a  soldier,  will  help  you  to  discharge  all  your  duties.  He  is  going 
to  see  you  through. 

A  young  accountant  in  New  York  City  got  his  accounts  entangled. 
He  knew  he  was  honest,  and  yet  he  could  not  make  his  accounts  come 
out  right.  He  toiled  at  them  day  and  night,  until  he  was  nearly  fren- 
zied. It  seemed  by  those  books  that  something  had  been  misappro- 
priated, and  yet  he  knew  before  God  that  he  was  honest.  The  last  day 
came.  He  knew  that  if  he  could  not  that  day  make  his  accounts  come 
out  right,  he  would  fall  into  disgrace  and  go  into  banishment  from  the 
business  establishment.  He  went  over  there  very  early,  before  there 
was  anybody  in  the  place,  and  he  knelt  down  at  the  desk  and  said : 
"  O  Lord,  Thou  knowest  I  have  tried  to  be  honest,  but  I  cannot  make 
these  things  come  out  right !  Help  me  to-day — help  me  this  morning!" 
The  young  man  arose,  and  hardly  knowing  why  he  did  so,  opened  a 
book  that  lay  on  the  desk,  and  there  was  a  leaf  containing  a  line  of  fig- 
ures which  explained  everything.  In  other  words,  he  cast  his  burden 
upon  the  Lord,  and  the  Lord  sustained  him. 

STRAINING    OUT    GNATS SWALLOWING    CAMELS. 

A  man  after  long  observation  has  formed  the  suspicion  that  in  a 
cup  of  water  he  is  about  to  drink  there  is  a  grub  or  the  grandparent 
of  a  gnat.  He  goes  and  gets  a  sieve  or  strainer.  He  takes  the  water 
and  pours  it  through  the  sieve  in  the  broad  light.  He  says  :  "I  would 
rather  do  anything  almost  than  drink  this  water  until  this  larva  be  ex- 
tirpated." This  water  is  brought  under  inquisition.  The  experiment 
is  successful.  The  water  rushes  through  the  sieve  and  leaves  against 
the  side  of  the  sieve  the  grub  or  gnat.  Then  the  man  carefully  removes 
the  insect  and  drinks  the  water  in  placidity.  But  going  out  one  day, 


104  SCHOOL  OF  BUSINESS. 

and  hungry,  he  devours  a  "ship  of  the  desert,"  the  camel,  which  the 
Jews  were  forbidden  to  eat.  The  gastronomer  has  no  compunctions 
of  conscience.  He  suffers  from  no  indigestion.  He  puts  his  lower 
jaw  under  the  camel's  forefoot,  and  his  upper  jaw  over  the  hump  of  the 
camel's  back,  and  gives  one  swallow,  and  the  dromedary  disappears 
forever.  He  strained  out  a  gnat — he  swallowed  a  camel ! 

Many  are  abhorrent  of  small  sins,  while  they  are  reckless  in  regard 
to  magnificent  thefts.  You  will  find  many  a  merchant  who,  while  he  is 
so  careful  that  he  would  not  take  a  yard  of  cloth  or  a  spool  of  cotton 
from  the  counter  without  paying  for  it,  and  who,  if  a  bank  cashier  should 
make  a  mistake  and  send  in  a  roll  of  bills  five  dollars  too  much,  would 
dispatch  a  messenger  in  hot  haste  to  return  the  surplus,  yet  who  will 
go  into  a  stock  company,  in  which  after  a  while  he  gets  control  of  the 
stock,  and  then  waters  the  stock  and  makes  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars  appear  like  two  hundred  thousand  dollars.  He  only  stole  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars  by  the  operation.  Many  of  the  men  of  fort- 
une made  their  wealth  in  that  way. 

One  of  those  men,  engaged  in  such  unrighteous  acts,  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  very  day  when  he  waters  the  stock,  will  find  a  wharf-rr ' 
stealing  a  Brooklyn  Eagle  from  his  basement  doorway,  and  will  go  our 
and  catch  the  urchin  by  the  collar,  and  twist  the  collar  so  tightly  that  the 
poor  fellow  cannot  say  it  was  thirst  for  knowledge  that  led  him  to  the  dis- 
honest act ;  then  grip  the  collar  tighter  and  tighter,  saying :  "I  have  been 
looking  for  you  a  long  while  ;  you  stole  my  paper  four  or  five  times, 
haven't  you,  you  miserable  wretch  ?  "  Then  the  old  stock-gambler,  with 
a  voice  they  can  hear  three  blocks,  will  cry  out :  "Police,  police  !  "  That 
same  man,  the  evening  of  the  day  in  which  he  watered  the  stock,  will 
kneel  with  his  family  in  prayers  and  thank  God  for  the  prosperity  of  the 
day,  then  kiss  his  children  good-night  with  an  air  which  seems  to  say, 
"  I  hope  you  will  all  grow  up  to  be  as  good  as  your  father ! " 

Prisons  for  sins  insectile  in  size,  but  palaces  for  crimes  drome- 
darian !  No  mercy  for  sins  animalcule  in  proportion,  but  great 
leniency  for  mastodon  iniquity  !  A  poor  boy  slily  takes  from  the  basket 
of  a  market  woman  a  choke  pear — saving  some  one  else  from  the 
cholera — and  you  smother  him  in  the  horrible  atmosphere  of  Raymond 
Street  Jail  or  New  York  Tombs,  while  his  cousin,  who  has  been  skillful 
enough  to  steal  fifty  thousand  dollars  from  the  city,  is  made  a  candidate 
for  the  New  York  Legislature  ! 


SCHOOL  OF  BUSINESS.  165 

Society  has  to  be  entirely  reconstructed  on  this  subject.  We  are 
to  find  that  a  sin  is  inexcusable  in  proportion  as  it  is  great.  I  know 
that  in  our  time  the  tendency  is  to  charge  religious  frauds  upon  good 
men.  They  say  "  Oh,  what  a  class  of  frauds  you  have  in  the  Church 
of  God  in  this  day !"  When  an  elder  of  a  church,  or  a  deacon,  or  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel,  or  a  superintendent  of  a  Sabbath-school,  turns 
out  a  defaulter,  what  display  heads  there  are  in  many  of  the  news- 
papers !  Great-primer  type — five-line  pica:  "Another  Saint  Ab 
sconded,"  "  Clerical  Scoundrelism,"  "  Religion  at  a  Discount,"  "Shame 
on  the  Churches,"  while  there  are  a  thousand  scoundrels  outside  the 
church  to  where  there  is  one  inside  the  church,  and  the  misbehavior  of 
those  who  never  see  the  inside  of  a  church  is  so  great  that  it  is  enough 
to  tempt  a  man  to  become  a  Christian  to  get  out  of  their  company. 
But  in  all  circles,  religious  and  irreligious,  the  tendency  is  to  excuse  sin 
in  proportion  as  it  is  mammoth.  Even  John  Milton,  in  his  "  Paradise 
Lost,"  while  he  condemns  Satan,  gives  such  a  grand  description  of  him 
that  you  have  hard  work  to  suppress  your  admiration.  Oh,  this  strain- 
ing out  of  small  sins  like  gnats,  and  this  gulping  down  great  iniquities 
like  camels  1 


THE 
CHRISTIAN  FOR  THE  TIMES 

BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


ESTHER  the  beautifulwzs  the  wife  of  Ahasuerus  the  abominable.  The 
time  had  come  for  her  to  present  a  petition  to  her  infamous  hus- 
band in  behalf  of  the  Jewish  nation,  to  which  she  had  once  be- 
longed.   She  was  afraid  to  undertake  the  work,  lest  she  should  lose  her 
own  life  ;  but  her  uncle,  Mordecai,  who  had  brought  her  up,  encouraged 
her  with  the  suggestion  that  probably  she  had  been  raised  up  of  God 
for  that  peculiar  mission.     "Who  knoweth  whether  thou  art  come  to 
the  kingdom  for  such  a  time  as  this  ?  " 

Esther  had  her  God-appointed  work ;  you  and  I  have  ours.  It  is 
mine  to  tell  you  what  style  of  men  and  women  you  ought  to  be  in 
order  that  you  may  meet  the  demand  of  the  age  in  which  God  has  cast 
your  lot.  When  two  armies  have  rushed  into  battle,  the  officers  of 
either  army  do  not  want  a  philosophical  discussion  about  the  chemical 
properties  of  human  blood,  or  the  nature  of  gunpowder ;  they  want 
some  one  to  man  the  batteries  and  swab  out  the  guns.  And  now, 
when  all  the  forces  of  light  and  darkness,  of  heaven  and  hell,  have 
plunged  into  the  fight,  it  is  no  time  to  give  ourselves  to  the  definitions 
and  formulas  and  technicalities  and  conventionalities  of  religion.  What 
we  want  is  practical,  earnest,  concentrated,  enthusiastic,  and  trium 
phant  help. 

AGGRESSIVE    CHRISTIANS. 

In  the  first  place,  in  order  to  meet  the  special  demand  of  this  age, 
you  need  to  be  unmistakably  aggressive  Christians.  Of  half-and-half 
Christians  we  do  not  want  any  more.  The  Church  of  Jesus  Christ 
would  be  better  without  ten  thousand  of  them.  They  are  the  chief 
obstacles  to  the  Church 's  advancement.  I  am  speaking  of  another  kind 
*>>f  Christian.  All  the  appliances  for  your  becoming  an  earnest  Christian 
(166) 


AHASUERUS  ORDERS  THE  EXECUTION  OF  HAMAN.— £rf.  vii. 


167 


NEHEMIAH    PREACHING 


168 


THE  CHRISTIAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  169 

are  at  your  hand,  and  there  is  a  straight  path  for  you  into  the  broad 
daylight  of  God's  forgiveness. 

You  remember  what  exciternent  there  was  in  this  country  some 
years  ago  when  the  Prince  of  Wales  came  here — how  the  people  rushed 
out  by  hundreds  of  thousands  to  see  him.  Why  ?  Because  they  ex- 
pected that  some  day  he  would  sit  upon  the  throne  of  England.  But 
what  was  all  that  honor  compared  with  the  honor  to  which  God  calls 
you — to  be  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Lord  Almighty — yea,  to  be 
queens  and  kings  unto  God?  "They  shall  reign  with  Him  for  ever 
and  for  ever." 

But  you  need  to  be  aggressive  Christians,  and  not  like  persons  who 
spend  their  lives  in  hugging  their  Christian  graces,  and  wondering  why 
they  do  not  make  any  progress.  How  much  robustness  of  health 
would  a  man  have  if  he  hid  himself  in  a  dark  closet  ?  A  great  deal  of 
the  piety  of  the  day  is  too  exclusive.  It  hides  itself.  It  needs  more 
fresh  air,  more  out-door  exercise.  There  are  many  Christians  who  are 
giving  their  entire  life  to  self-examination.  They  are  feeling  their  pulses 
to  see  what  is  the  condition  of  their  spiritual  health.  Yet  how  long 
would  a  man  have  robust  physical  health  if  he  kept  all  the  days, 
and  weeks,  and  months,  and  years  of  his  life  feeling  his  pulse,  instead 
of  going  out  into  earnest,  active,  every-day  work  ? 

I  have  been  among  the  wonderful  and  bewitching  cactus  growths 
of  North  Carolina,  where  I  never  was  more  bewildered  with  the  beauty 
of  flowers.  Yet,  when  I  would  take  up  one  of  these  cactuses  and  pull 
the  leaves  apart,  the  beauty  was  all  gone.  You  could  hardly  tell  that 
it  had  been  a  flower.  And  there  are  a  great  many  Christian  people 
in  this  day  just  pulling  apart  their  own  Christian  experiences  to  see 
what  there  is  in  them,  and  there  is  nothing  left  of  them.  This  style  of  self- 
examination  is  a  damage  instead  of  an  advantage  to  their  Christian 
character. 

I  remember,  when  I  was  a  boy,  I  used  to  have  a  small  piece  in  the 
garden  that  I  called  my  own,  and  I  planted  corn  there,  and  every  few 
days  I  would  pull  it  up  to  see  how  fast  it  was  growing.  Now,  there 
are  a  great  many  Christian  people  in  this  day  whose  self-examination 
merely  amounts  to  the  pulling  up  of  that  which  they  only  yesterday  or 
the  clay  before  planted.  If  you  want  to  have  a  stalwart  Christian 
character,  plant  it  right  out  of  doors  in  the  great  field  of  Christian  use- 
fulness, and  though  storms  may  come  upon  it,  and  the  hot  sun  of  trial 


170  THE  CHRISTIAN  FOR  THE  TIMES. 

may  try  to  consume  it,  it  will  thrive  until  it  becomes  a  great  tree,  in 
which  the  fowls  of  heaven  may  have  a  habitation.  I  have  no  patience 
with  these  flower-pot  Christians.  They  keep  themselves  under  shelter, 
and  all  their  Christian  experience  in  a  small  and  exclusive  circle,  when 
they  ought  to  plant  it  in  the  great  garden  of  the  Lord,  so  that  the 
whole  atmosphere  would  be  aromatic  with  their  Christian  piety.  The 
century-plant  is  wonderfully  suggestive  and  wonderfully  beautiful ;  but 
I  never  look  at  it  without  thinking  of  its  parsimony.  It  lets  whole- 
generations  go  by  before  it  puts  forth  one  blossom  ;  so  I  have  really 
more  heartfelt  admiration  when  I  see  the  dewy  tears  in  the  blue  eyes 
of  the  violets,  for  they  come  every  spring.  Time  is  going  by  so  rapidly 
that  we  cannot  afford  to  be  idle. 

A  recent  statistician  says  that  human  life  now  has  an  average  of 
thirty-two  years.  From  these  thirty-two  years  you  must  subtract  all 
the  time  you  take  for  sleep  and  the  taking  of  food  and  recreation  ;  that 
will  leave  you  about  sixteen  years.  From  these  sixteen  years  you  must 
subtract  all  the  time  that  you  are  necessarily  engaged  in  the  earning 
of  a  livelihood  ;  that  will  leave  you  about  eight  years.  From  these 
eight  years  you  must  take  all  the  days  and  weeks  and  months  that  are 
passed  in  sickness — leaving  you  about  one  year  in  which  to  work  for 
God.  O  my  soul,  wake  up  !  How  darest  thou  sleep  in  harvest-time, 
and  with  so  few  hours  in  which  to  reap  ?  So  I  state  it  as  a  simple  fact 
that  all  the  time  that  the  vast  majority  of  you  will  have  for  the  exclusive 
service  of  God  will  be  less  than  one  year. 

"  But,"  says  some  man,  "I  liberally  support  the  Gospel,  and  the 
Gospel  is  preached  ;  all  the  spiritual  advantages  are  spread  before 
men,  and  if  they  want  to  be  saved,  let  them  come  and  be  saved  ;  I  have 
discharged  all  my  responsibility."  Ah  !  is  that  the  Master's  spirit?  Is 
there  not  an  old  Book  somewhere  that  commands  us  to  "go  out  into 
the  highways  and  hedges  and  compel  the  people  to  come  in  "  ?  What 
would  have  become  of  you  and  me  if  Christ  had  not  come  down  off 
the  hills  of  heaven,  and  if  he  had  not  come  through  the  door  of  the 
Bethlehem  caravansary,  and  if  he  had  not  with  the  crushed  hand  of  the 
Crucifixion  knocked  at  the  iron  gate  of  the  sepulcher  of  our  spiritual 
death,  crying,  "  Lazarus,  come  forth  !  " 

O  my  Christian  friends,  this  is  no  time  for  inertia,  when  all  the 
forces  of  darkness  seem  to  be  in  full  blast,  when  steam  printing-presses 
are  publishing  infidel  tracts,  when  express  railroad  trains  are  carrying 


THE  CHRISTIAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  17* 

messengers  of  sin,  when  fast  clippers  are  laden  with  opium  and  rum, 
when  the  night  air  of  our  cities  is  polluted  with  the  laughter  that  breaks 
up  from  the  ten  thousand  saloons  of  dissipation  and  abandonment. 

The  fires  of  the  second  death  already  are  kindled  in  the  cheeks  of 
some  who  only  a  little  while  ago  were  incorrupt.  Oh,  never  since  the 
curse  fell  upon  the  earth  has  there  been  a  time  when  it  was  such  an 
unwise,  such  a  cruel,  such  an  awful  thing  for  the  Church  to  sleep  !  The 
great  audiences  are  not  gathered  in  the  Christian  temples ;  the  great 
audiences  are  gathered  in  temples  of  sin — tears  of  unutterable  woe, 
their  baptism  ;  the  blood  of  crushed  hearts,  the  awful  wine  of  their 
sacrament ;  blasphemies,  their  litany  ;  and  the  groans  of  the  lost  world, 
the  organ-dirge  of  their  worship. 

THE    NEW   AND   THE   OLD. 

Again,  if  you  want  to  be  qualified  to  meet  the  duties  which  this 
age  demands  of  you,  you  must  on  the  one  hand  avoid  reckless 
iconoclasm,  and  on  the  other  hand,  not  stick  too  much  to  things  because 
they  are  old.  The  air  is  full  of  new  plans,  new  projects,  new  theories 
of  government,  new  theologies  ;  and  I  am  amazed  to  see  how  many 
Christians  want  only  novelty  in  order  to  recommend  a  thing  to  their 
confidence,  and  so  they  vacillate,  and  swing  to  and  fro,  and  are  useless 
and  unhappy.  New  plans — secular,  ethical,  philosophical,  religious, 
cisatlantic,  transatlantic,  long  enough  to  make  a  line  reaching  from  the 
German  universities  to  the  great  Salt  Lake  City !  Ah,  my  brother,  do 
not  take  hold  of  a  thing  merely  because  it  is  new.  Try  it  by  the 
realities  of  a  judgment-day. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  do  not  adhere  to  anything  merely  because 
it  is  old.  There  is  not  a  single  enterprise  of  the  Church  or  the  world 
but  has  sometimes  been  scoffed  at.  There  was  a  time  when  men  de- 
rided even  Bible  societies  ;  and  when  a  few  young  men  met  near  a  hay- 
stack in  Massachusetts  and  organized  the  first  missionary  society  ever 
organized  in  this  country,  there  went  laughter  and  ridicule  all  around 
the  Christian  Church.  They  said  the  undertaking  was  preposterous. 

So  also  the  ministry  of  Jesus  Christ  was  assailed.  People  cried 
out,  "Who  ever  heard  of  such  theories  of  ethics  and  government? 
Who  ever  noticed  such  a  style  of  preaching  as  Jesus  has?"  Ezekiel 
had  talked  of  mysterious  wings  and  wheels.  Here  came  a  man  from 
Antioch  and  Capernaum,  andGennessaret,  and  he  drew  his  illustrations 


172  THE  CHRISTIAN  FOR  THE  TIMES. 

from  the  lakes,  from  the  sand,  from  the  raven,  from  the  lilies,  from  the 
corn-stacks.  How  the  Pharisees  scoffed  !  How  Herod  derided  i  And 
this  Jesus  they  plucked  by  the  beard,  and. they  spat  in  his  face,  and  they 
called  him  "this  fellow."  All  the  great  enterprises  in  and  out  of  the 
Church  have  at  times  been  scoffed  at,  and  there  have  been  a  great 
multitude  who  have  thought  that  the  chariot  of  God's  truth  would  fall 
to  pieces  if  it  once  got  out  of  the  old  rut. 

And  so  there  are  those  who  have  no  patience  with  anything  like 
improvement  in  church  architecture,  or  with  anything  like  good,  hearty, 
earnest  church  singing,  and  they  deride  every  form  of  religious  discus- 
sion which  goes  down  walking  with  every-day  men  rather  than  that 
which  makes  an  excursion  on  rhetorical  stilts.  Oh,  that  the  Church  of 
God  would  wake  up  to  an  adaptability  of  work  !  We  must  admit  the 
simple  fact  that  the  churches  of  Jesus  Christ  in  this  day  do  not  reach  the 
great  masses  of  mankind. 

GOSPEL   SIEGE-GUNS. 

There  are  fifty  thousand  people  in  Edinburgh  who  never  hear  the 
Gospel.  There  are  two  hundred  thousand  people  in  Glasgow  who 
never  hear  the  Gospel.  There  are  one  million  people  in  London  who 
never  hear  the  Gospel.  There  are  many  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
souls  in  American  cities  who  come  not  under  the  immediate  ministration 
of  Christ's  truth,  and  the  Church  of  God  of  this  day,  instead  of  being 
a  place  full  of  living  epistles,  and  known  of  all  men,  is  more  like  a 
"  dead  letter  "  post-office  ! 

"  But,"  say  the  people,  "  the  world  is  going  to  be  converted  ;  you 
must  be  patient ;  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  are  to  become  the  king- 
doms of  Christ."  Never,  .unless  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  puts  on 
more  speed  and  energy.  Instead  of  the  Church  converting  the  world, 
the  world  is  converting  the  Church.  Here  is  a  great  fortress.  How 
shall  it  be  taken?  An  army  comes  and  sits  around  about  it,  cuts  off 
the  supplies,  and  says,  "  Now  we  will  just  wait  until,  from  exhaustion 
and  starvation,  they  will  have  to  give  up."  Weeks  and  months,  and 
perhaps  a  year,  pass  along,  and  finally  the  fortress  surrenders  through 
that  starvation  and  exhaustion. 

But,  my  friends,  the  fortresses  of  sin  are  never  to  be  taken  in  that 
way.  If  they  are  taken  for  God,  it  will  be  by  storm.  You  will  have 
to  bring  up  the  great  siege-guns  of  the  Gospel  to  the  very  wall,  and 


ood  tree 


ereiri  is  my 

ori  u 

that  <ye  bear 
muck  fruit 

/M      . 


ore  by  tlneir  fruits 

t/  j 


GOOD  TREES  BRING  FORTH  GOOD  FRUIT 


1 73 


i74  THE  CHRISTIAN  FOR  THE  TIMES. 

wheel  the  flying  artillery  into  line,  and  when  the  armed  infantry  of 
heaven  shall  confront  the  battlements,  you  will  have  to  give  the  quick 
command,  "  Forward,  charge  !  " 

Ah,  my  friends,  there  is  work  for  you  to  do,  and  for  me  to  do,  in 
order  to  gain  this  grand  accomplishment.  My  pulpit  is  the  rostrum 
and  the  book.  Your  pulpit  is  the  bank.  Your  pulpit  is  the  store. 
Your  pulpit  is  the  editorial  chair.  Your  pulpit  is  the  anvil.  Your 
pulpit  is  the  house-scaffolding.  Your  pulpit  is  the  mechanic's  shop. 
I  may  stand  in  my  pulpit,  and  through  cowardice  or  through  self-seek- 
ing may  keep  back  the  word  I  ought  to  utter ;  while  you,  with  sleeve 
rolled  up  and  brow  besweated  with  toil,  may  utter  the  word  that  will 
stir  the  foundations  of  heaven  with  the  shout  of  a  great  victory. 

THE  PEOPLE'S  PULPIT. 

Every  man  and  woman  can  preach  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  Find 
the  right  pulpit,  seek  the  divine  ordination,  and  go  to  work  !  Hedley 
Vicars  was  a  wicked  man  in  the  English  army.  The  grace  of  God 
came  to  him.  He  became  an  earnest  and  eminent  Christian.  They 
scoffed  at  him  and  said,  "  You  are  a  hypocrite  ;  you  are  as  bad  as  ever 
you  were."  Still  he  kept  his  faith  in  Christ,  and  after  a  while,  finding 
that  they  could  not  turn  him  aside  by  calling  him  a  hypocrite,  they  said 
to  him,  "Oh,  you  are  nothing  but  a  Methodist."  That  did  not  disturb 
him.  He  went  on  performing  his  Christian  duty  until  he  had  formed 
all  his  troops  into  a  Bible-class,  and  the  whole  encampment  was  shaken 
with  the  presence  of  God. 

So  Havelock  went  into  a  heathen  temple  in  India,  while  the 
English  army  was  there,  and  put  a  candle  into  the  hands  of  each  of  the 
heathen  gods  that  stood  around  in  the  heathen  temple,  and  by  the  light 
of  those  candles  held  up  by  the  idols,  General  Havelock  preached 
righteousness,  temperance,  and  judgment  to  come.  And  who  will  say, 
on  earth  or  in  heaven,  that  Havelock  had  not  the  right  to  preach  ? 

In  the  minister's  house  where  I  prepared  for  college  there  was  a 
man  who  worked,  by  the  name  of  Peter  Croy.  He  could  neither  read 
nor  write,  but  he  was  a  man  of  God.  Often  theologians  would  stop  in 
the  house — grave  theologians — and  at  family  prayer  Peter  Croy  would 
be  called  upon  to  lead ;  and  all  those  wise  men  sat  around,  wonder- 
struck  at  his  religious  efficiency.  When  he  prayed,  he  reached  up 
and  seemed  to  take  hold  of  the  very  throne  of  the  Almighty,  and  he 


THE  CHRISTIAN  FOR  THE  TIMES.  175 

talked  with  God  until  the  very  heavens  were  bowed  down   into  the 
sitting-room. 

Oh,  if  I  were  dying,  I  would  rather  have  plain  Peter  Croy  kneel 
by  my  bedside  and  commend  my  spirit  to  God  than  the  greatest  arch- 
bishop arrayed  in  costly  canonicals  !  Go  preach  this  Gospel.  You  say 
you  are  not  licensed.  In  the  name  of  the  Lord  Almighty,  I  license  you. 
Go  preach  this  Gospel — preach  it  in  the  Sabbath-schools,  in  the  prayer- 
meetings,  in  the  highways,  in  the  hedges.  Woe  be  unto  you  if  you 
preach  it  not ! 

I  congratulate  all  those  who  are  toiling  for  the  outcast  and  the 
wandering.     Your  work  will  soon  be  over,  but  the  influence  you  are 
setting  in  motion  will  never  stop.     Long  after  you  have  been  garnered 
for  the  skies,  your  prayers,  your  teachings,  and  your  Christian  influ 
ence  will  go  on.  and  help  to  people  heaven  with  bright  inhabitants. 


THE  MISSION  OF  PICTURES 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


PICTURES  are,  by  some,  relegated  to  the  realm  of  the  trivial,  the 
accidental,  and  the  sentimental  or  worldly  ;  but  the  Bible  teaches 
that  God  himself  scrutinizes  pictures  ;  and  whether  they  are  good 
or  bad,  whether   they   are    used    for  right  or  wrong  purposes,  is  a 
matter  of  Divine  observation  and  arraignment.     The  Divine  mission 
of  pictures  is  the  subject  of  this  paper. 

That  the  artist's  brush  and  the  engraver's  knife  have  sometimes 
been  made  subservient  to  the  kingdom  of  the  bad,  is  frankly  admitted. 
After  the  ashes  and  the  scoria  were  removed  from  Herculaneum  and 
Pompeii,  the  walls  of  those  cities  displayed  to  the  explorers  a  degrada- 
tion of  art  which  cannot  be  exaggerated.  Satan  and  all  his  imps  have 
always  wanted  the  fingering  of  the  easel.  They  would  rather  have  that 
than  they  would  the  art  of  printing,  for  types  are  not  so  potent  and  so 
quick  for  evil  as  pictures.  The  powers  of  darkness  think  that  they 
have  gained  a  triumph,  and  so  they  have,  when  in  some  respectable 
parlor  or  art-gallery  they  can  hang  a  canvas  offensive  to  the  good  but 
fascinating  to  the  evil. 

It  is  not  in  the  spirit  of  prudery,  but,  backed  up  by  God's  eternal 
truth,  that  I  say  you  have  no  right  to  hang  in  your  art-galleries,  or  your 
dwelling-houses,  that  which  would  be  offensive  to  good  people,  if  the 
pictures  were  alive  in  your  parlor,  and  the  figures  the  guests  of  your 
own  household.  The  picture  that  you  prefer  to  hang  in  a  somewhat 
secluded  place  or  in  a  public  hall,  and  which  you  cannot  with  your ' 
group  of  friends  stand  deliberately  before  and  discuss,  ought  to  have  a 
knife  driven  into  it  and  drawn  clear  through  to  the  bottom  ;  and  then  a 
stout  finger  thrust  through  and  the  canvas  ripped  to  right  and  left. 
Pliny  the  elder  lost  his  life  by  going  near  enough  to  the  crater  of 

Vesuvius  to  see  the  eruption  close  at  hand.     The  further  you  stanr* 
(176) 


JACOB'S   VISION   OF  ANGELS 


177 


MARY   ANOINTING   THE   FEET   OF  JESUS   IN   THE   HOUSE   OF   SIMON 

THE    PHARISEE 
178 


THE  MISSION  OF  PICTURES.  i79 

off  from  the  burning  crater  of  sin  the  better.  Never,  till  the  books  of 
the  Last  Day  are  opened,  shall  we  know  what  has  been  the  dire  har- 
vest of  evil  pictorials  and  unbecoming  art-galleries. 

Debase  a  man's  imagination  and  he  becomes  a  moral  carcass. 
The  show-windows  of  English  and  American  cities,  in  which  the  low 
theaters  have  sometimes  hung  long  lines  of  brazen  actors  and  actresses, 
in  style  that  is  insulting  to  all  propriety,  have  made  a  broad  path  to 
death  for  multitudes  of  people.  But  so  have  all  the  other  arts  at  times 
been  suborned  to  evil.  How  has  music  been  bedraggled  !  Is  there 
any  place  so  low  down  in  dissoluteness  that  into  it  has  not  been  carried 
David's  harp,  and  Handel's  organ,  and  Gottschalk's  piano,  and  Ole 
Bull's  violin  ?  And  the  flute, — which  has  been  named  after  so  insignifi- 
cant a  thing  as  the  Sicilian  eel,  which  has  seven  spots  on  its  sides  like 
flute  holes, — and  which  for  thousands  of  years  has  had  an  exalted  mission, 
has  also  been  made  an  agent  of  vice.  Architecture,  born  in  the  heart 
of  Him  who  made  the  worlds — under  its  acres  and  across  its  floors 
what  bacchanalian  revelries  have  been  enacted  ! 

THE    LASTING    LESSON. 

Yet  what  a  poor  world  this  would  be  were  it  not  for  "pleasant 
pictures"!  I  refer  to  your  memory  and  mine,  when  I  ask  if  your 
knowledge  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  has  not  been  mightily  augmented 
and  aided  by  the  wood-cuts  in  the  old  family  Bible,  which  father  and 
mother  read  out  of,  and  laid  on  the  table  in  the  old  homestead,  when 
we  were  boys  and  girls.  The  Bible  scenes  which  we  all  carry  in  our 
minds,  we  did  not  get  from  the  Bible  typology,  but  from  the  Bible  pict- 
ures. To  prove  the  truth  of  it,  the  other  day  I  took  up  the  old  family 
Bible  which  I  inherited.  Sure  enough !  What  I  have  carried  in  my 
mind  about  Jacob's  ladder,  was  exactly  the  Bible  engraving  of  Jacob's 
ladder.  And  so  with  Samson  carrying  off  the  gates  of  Gaza,  Elisha 
restoring  the  Shunamite's  son,  the  massacre  of  the  innocents,  Christ 
blessing  the  little  children,  the  crucifixion,  and  the  last  judgment.  My 
idea  of  all  these  is  that  of  the  old  Bible  engravings  which  I  scanned 
before  I  could  read  a  word. 

That  is  true  with  nine-tenths  of  you.  If  I  could  swing  open  the 
doors  of  your  foreheads,  I  would  find  that  you  are  walking  picture-gal- 
leries. The  great  intelligence  abroad  about  the  Bible,  did  not  come 
from  the  reading  of  the  book — for  the  majority  of  the  people  read  it 


i8o  THE  MISSION  OF  PICTURES. 

but  little,  if  they  read  it  at  all — but  all  the  great  scenes  have  been  put 
before  the  masses,  and  not  the  printer's  ink  but  pictorial  art  must  have 
the  credit.  First,  painter's  pencil  for  the  favored  few,  and  then  the 
engraver's  plate  or  wood-cut  for  millions  on  millions.  What  an  over- 
whelming commentary  on  the  Bible,  what  reinforcements  for  patriarchs, 
for  the  prophets,  and  for  Christ,  what  distribution  of  the  spiritual 
knowledge  of  all  nations  in  the  paintings  and  the  engravings  therefrom, 
of  Holman  Hunt's  "Christ  in  the  Temple,"  Paul  Veronese's  "Magda- 
len Washing  the  Feet  of  Christ,"  Raphael's  "Michael,  the  Archangel," 
Albert  Durer's  "Dragon  of  the  Apocalypse,"  Michael  Angelo's 
"Plague  of  the  Fiery  Serpents,"  Tintoreto's  "Flight  into  Egypt," 
Reuben's  "Descent  from  the  Cross,"  Leonardo  Da  Vinci's  "Last 
Supper,"  Claude's  "Queen  of  Sheba,"  Orcagna's  "Last  Judgment," 
and  hundreds  of  miles  of  pictures  if  they  were  put  in  line,  illustrating, 
displaying,  dramatizing,  irradiating  Bible  truths,  until  the  Scriptures 
are  not  so  much  to-day  on  paper  as  on  canvas — not  so  much  in  ink  as 
in  the  colors  of  the  spectrum. 

A    GREAT   ARTIST. 

In  1833,  forth  from  Strasburg,  Germany,  there  came  a  child  that 
was  to  eclipse  in  boldness  and  speed  and  grandeur,  anything  and 
everything  that  the  world  had  seen  since  the  first  color  appeared  on  the 
sky  at  the  creation — Gustave  Dore.  At  eleven  years  of  age,  he  pub- 
lished marvellous  lithographs  of  his  own.  And  saying  nothing  of  what 
he  did  for  Milton's  "Paradise  Lost,"  emblazoning  it  on  the  attention 
of  the  world,  he  took  up  the  Book  of  books,  the  monarch  of  literature 
— the  Bible — and  in  his  pictures,  "The  Creation  of  Light,"  "The  Trial 
of  Abraham's  Faith,"  "The  Burial  of  Sarah,"  "Joseph  Sold  by  his 
Brethren,"  "The  Brazen  Serpent,"  "Ruth  and  Boaz,"  "David  and 
Goliath,"  "The  Transfiguration,"  "The  Marriage  in  Cana,"  "Babylon 
Fallen,"  and  two  hundred  and  five  scriptural  scenes  in  all,  with  a  bold- 
ness and  a  grasp  that  is  almost  supernatural,  he  causes  the  heart  to 
throb  and  the  brain  to  reel,  and  the  tears  to  start  and  the  cheeks  to 
blanch,  and  the  entire  nature  to  quake  with  the  tremendous  things  of 
God,  and  eternity,  and  the  dead  !  I  actually  staggered  down  the  steps 
of  the  London  Art-Gallery,  under  the  power  of  Dore's  "  Christ  Leav- 
ing the  Prsetorium."  Profess  you  to  be  a  Christian  man  or  woman  and 
see  you  no  Divine  mission  in  art,  and  acknowledge  you  no  obligation 


THE  MISSION  OF  PICTURES.  181 

to  either  God  or  to  man  ?  The  Bible  is  no  more  the  word  of  God  when 
put  before  us  in  printer's  ink,  than  when  its  scenes  are  pictured  by 
skillfully  laying  colors  or  designs  on  metal  through  incision  or  corrosion. 
What  a  lesson  in  morals  was  presented  by  Hogarth,  the  painter,  in  his 
two  pictures,  "The  Rake's  Progress"  and  "The  Miser's  Feast";  and 
by  Thomas  Cole's  engravings  of  the  "  Voyage  of  Human  Life  "  and 
the  "  Course  of  Empire  ";  and  by  Turner's  "  Slave  Ship."  God  in  art ! 
'  Christ  in  art !  Patriarchs,  apostles  and  prophets  in  art !  .  Angels  in  art ! 
Heaven  in  art ! 

THE    TRIALS    OF    ARTISTS. 

The  world  and  the  Church  ought  to  come  to  a  higher  appreciation 
of  the  Divine  mission  of  pictures,  and  yet  the  artists  themselves  have 
generally  been  left  to  semi-starvation.  West,  the  great  painter,  toiled 
on  in  unappreciation,  till  he  became  a  skillful  skater.  On  the  ice  he 
became  acquainted  with  General  Howe,  of  the  English  army,  who, 
through  coming  to  admire  West  as  a  skater,  came  gradually  to  appre- 
ciate as  much  that  which  he  accomplished  by  his  hand  as  by  his  heel. 
Poussin,  the  mighty  painter,  was  pursued  by  a  mob,  and  had  nothing 
with  which  to  defend  himself  but  the  artist's  portfolio,  which  he  held  over 
his  head  to  keep  off  the  stones  that  were  hurled  at  him.  The  pictures  of 
Richard  Wilson,  of  England,  were  sold  for  fabulous  sums  after  his  death, 
but  the  living  painter  was  glad  to  get  for  his  "  Alcyone  "  a  piece  of  Stilton 
cheese.  From  1640  to  1643  there  were  four  thousand  pictures  willfully 
destroyed.  In  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  it  was  the  habit  of  some 
people  to  spend  much  of  their  time  in  knocking  pictures  to  pieces.  In 
the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  it  was  ordered  by  Parliament  that  all  the  pictures 
of  Christ  should  be  burnt.  Painters  were  occasionally  so  badly  treated 
and  humiliated  in  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  that  they 
were  lowered  clear  down  out  of  the  sublimity  of  their  art,  and  obliged 
to  give  minute  accounts  of  what  they  did  with  their  colors,  as  is  indi- 
cated by  a  painter's  bill  which  came  to  publication  in  Scotland,  in  1707. 
The  painter  had  been  touching  up  some  old  pictures  in  a  church,  and 
he  sent  in  his  itemized  bill  to  the  vestry :  "  To  filling  up  a  chink  in  the 
Red  Sea  ;  to  repairing  the  damages  to  Pharaoh's  host ;  to  a  new  pair 
of  hands  for  Daniel  in  the  lion's  den,  and  a  new  set  of  teeth  for  the 
lioness  ;  to  repairing  Nebuchadnezzar's  beard ;  to  giving  a  blush  to  the 
cheek  of  Eve,  on  presenting  the  apple  to  Adam  ;  to  making  a  bridle 


1 82  THE  MISSION  OF  PICTURES. 

for  the  good  Samaritan's  horse,  and  to  mending  one  of  his  legs ;  to 
putting  a  new  handle  on  Moses'  basket,  and  fitting  the  bulrushes  ;  and 
to  adding  more  fire  to  Nebuchadnezzar's  furnace."  So  painters  were 
humiliated  clear  down  below  the  majesty  of  their  art.  The  oldest  pict- 
ure in  England,  a  portrait  of  Chaucer,  though  now  of  great  value,  was 
picked  out  of  a  lumber-garret.  Great  were  the  trials  of  Quentin  Matsys, 
who  toiled  on  from  a  blacksmith's  anvil  till,  as  a  painter,  he  won  wide 
recognition. 

But  why  go  so  far  back,  when  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1 888,  and 
within  twelve  years  of  the  twentieth  century,  to  be  a  painter,  except  in 
rare  exceptions,  means  poverty  and  neglect — poorly  fed,  poorly  clothed, 
poorly  housed,  because  poorly  appreciated.  When  I  hear  that  a  man 
is  a  painter,  I  have  two  feelings — one  of  admiration  for  the  greatness 
of  his  soul,  and  one  of  commiseration  for  the  needs  of  his  body.  But 
so  it  has  been  in  all  the  departments  of  noble  work ;  some  of  the 
mightiest  have  been  hardly  able  to  exist.  Oliver  Goldsmith  had  at  one 
time  such  a  big  patch  on  the  side  of  his  coat,  that  when  he  went  any- 
where, he  kept  his  hat  in  his  hand,  closely  pressed  over  the  patch. 

PHILANTHROPY   OF   ART. 

Let  wealthy  men  take  under  their  patronage  the  suffering  men  of 
art.  They  offer  no  complaint,  they  make  no  strike  for  highei  wages, 
but  with  a  keenness  of  nervous  organization  which  has  almost  always 
characterized  genius,  these  artists  suffer  more  than  any  one  but  God 
can  realize.  There  needs  to  be  a  concerted  effort  for  the  suffering 
artists  ;  not  sentimental  discourse  about  what  we  owe  them,  but  con- 
tracts that  will  give  them  a  livelihood.  For  I  am  in  full  sympathy  with  the 
Christian  farmer,  whom,  as  he  was  very  busy  gathering  his  fall  apples, 
some  one  asked  to  pray  for  a  poor  family,  the  father  of  which  had 
broken  his  leg.  The  busy  farmer  said,  "I  cannot  stop  now  to  pray, 
but  you  can  go  down  in  the  cellar  and  get  some  corned  beef  and  some 
butter  and  eggs  and  potatoes — that  is  all  that  I  can  do  now."  Artists 
may  wish  for  our  prayers,  but  they  also  want  our  practical  help.  You 
have  heard  scores  of  sermons  for  all  kinds  of  suffering  men  and 
women,  but  who  ever  heard  one  that  made  a  plea  for  the  suffering  men 
and  women  of  American  art?  Their  work  is  more  true  to  nature  and 
life  than  any  of  the  masterpieces  that  have  become  immortal  on  the 
other  side  of  the  sea ;  but  it  is  the  fashion  of  Americans  to  mention 


THE  MISSION  OF  PICTURES.  T83 

foreign  artists,  and  to  know  little  or  nothing  about  our  own  Copley, 
and  Allston,  and  Inman,  and  Greenough,  and  Kensett.  Let  the  affluent 
fling  out  of  their  windows,  and  into  the  back  yards,  valueless  daubs 
of  canvas,  and  call  in  our  splendid  but  unrewarded  artists,  and  tell 
them  to  adorn  their  walls  with  that  which  shall  not  only  please  the 
taste,  but  enlarge  the  minds,  and  improve  the  morals,  and  save  the  souls 
of  those  who  gaze  upon  them. 

All  our  cities  need  art-galleries,  not  open  annually  for  a  few  days 
on  exhibition,  but  standing  open  all  the  year  around,  from  early  morn- 
ing till  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and  free  to  all  who  may  come  and  go. 
What  a  preparation  for  the  wear  and  tear  of  the  day  would  be  a  five 
minutes'  look,  in  the  morning,  at  some  picture  that  will  open  the  door 
into  a  larger  realm  than  that  in  which  our  population  daily  drudge  ! 
Or  what  a  good  thing  the  half  hour  of  artistic  opportunity  on  the  way 
home,  in  the  evening,  from  exhaustion  that  demands  recuperation  for 
mind  and  soul  as  well  as  body  !  Who  will  do  for  the  city  where  you 
live  what  W.  W.  Corcoran  did  for  Washington,  or  what  I  am  told  that 
John  Wanamaker  is  going  to  do  for  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  by  the 
donation  of  De  Munkacsy's  great  picture,  "Christ  before  Pilate"? 
Men  of  wealth,  if  you  are  too  modest  to  build  and  endow  such  a  place 
during  your  lifetime,  why  not  go  to  your  iron  safe,  and  take  out  your 
last  will  and  testament,  and  make  a  codicil  that  shall  build  for  the  city 
of  your  residence  a  throne  for  American  art?  Take  some  of  your 
money  that  would  otherwise  spoil  your  children,  and  build  an  art- 
galle.y  that  shall  associate  your  name  forever,  not  only  with  the  great 
masters  of  painting  that  are  gone,  but  with  the  great  masters  who  are 
trying  to  live  ;  and  also  win  the  admiration  and  love  of  tens  of  thousands 
of  people,  who,  unable  to  have  fine  pictures  of  their  own,  would  be 
advantaged  by  your  benefaction.  Build  your  own  monuments,  and 
not  leave  it  to  the  whims  of  others. 

Some  of  the  best  people  sleeping  in  Greenwood  have  no  monu- 
ments at  all,  or  some  crumbling  stones  that  in  a  few  years  will  let  the 
rain  wash  out  name  and  epitaph,  while  other  men,  whose  death  was 
but  the  abatement  of  a  nuisance,  have  a  pile  of  polished  Aberdeen 
high  enough  for  a  king  and  eulogium  enough  to  embarrass  a  seraph ! 
O  man  of  large  wealth,  instead  of  leaving  to  the  whims  of  others  your 
monumental  commemoration  and  epitaphology,  to  be  looked  at  when 
people  are  going  to  and  fro  at  the  burial  of  others,  build  right  down  in 


r84  THE  MISSION  OF  PICTURES. 

the  heart  of  the  city  where  you  live  an  immense  free  reading-room, 
or  a  musical  conservatory,  or  a  free  art-gallery,  with  niches  for  sculpt- 
ure, and  the  walls  abloom  with  pictures  of  the  rise  and  the  fall  of 
nations,  and  lessons  of  courage  for  the  disheartened,  of  rest  for  the 
weary  and  life  for  the  dead  ;  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  from 
now  you  will  be  wielding  influences  in  this  world  for  good  among 
those  whose  great-grandfathers  were  your  great-grandchildren.  How 
much  better  than  white  marble,  that  chills  you  if  you  put  your  hand 
upon  it  in  the  cemetery,  would  be  a  monument  in  colors,  in  beaming 
eyes,  in  living  possession,  in  splendors  which  under  the  chandelier  are 
glowing  and  warm,  and  looked  at  by  strolling  groups,  catalogue  in 
hand,  on  the  January  night,  when  the  necropolis,  where  the  body 
sleeps,  is  all  snowed  under  !  The  tower  of  David  was  hung  with  one 
thousand  shields  of  battle,  but  you,  O  man  of  wealth,  may  have  a 
grander  tower  named  after  you,  one  that  shall  be  hung,  not  with  the 
symbols  of  carnage,  but  with  the  victories  of  art,  that  were  so  long 
ago  recognized  in  the  Scriptures  as  "Pleasant  Pictures."  Oh,  the 
power  of  pleasant  pictures  !  I  cannot  deride,  as  some  have  done,  Car- 
dinal Mazarin,  who,  when  told  that  he  must  die,  took  his  last  walk 
through  the  art-gallery  of  his  palace,  saying,  "  Must  I  quit  all  this? 
Look  at  that  Titian  !  Look  at  that  Corregio  !  Look  at  that  Deluge 
of  Caracci  !  Farewell,  dear  pictures  !  " 

GENIUS    OF    DEPRAVITY. 

As  the  Day  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts  will  scrutinize  these  pictures,  1 
implore  all  parents  to  see  that  in  their  households  there  is  nothing  in 
newspapers,  or  in  books,  or  on  canvas,  that  will  deprave.  Pictures  are  no 
longer  the  exclusive  possession  of  the  affluent.  There  is  not  a  respect- 
able home  in  our  cities  that  has  not  specimens  of  wood-cut  or  steel 
engravings,  if  not  of  paintings,  and  your  whole  family  will  feel  the 
moral  uplifting  or  depression.  Have  nothing  on  your  wall  or  in  your 
books  that  will  familiarize  the  young  with  scenes  of  cruelty  or  wassail. 
Have  only  sketches  made  by  artists  in  elevated  moods,  and  none  of 
those  that  seem  to  be  the  product  of  artistic  delirium  tremens.  Pict- 
ures are  not  only  a  strong,  but  a  universal  language.  The  human 
race  is  divided  into  as  many  languages  almost  as  there  are  nations. 
But  pictures  speak  to  people  of  all  tongues.  Volapuk,  many  have 
hoped  with  little  reason,  would  become  a  world-wide  language ;  but 


THE   SERMON   ON  THE   MOUNT, 


185 


1 86  THE  MISSION  OF  PICTURES. 

the  pictorial  is  always  a  world-wide  language,  and  the  printer's  types 
have  no  emphasis  compared  with  it.  \\  e  say  that  children  are  fond 
of  pictures,  but  notice  any  man  when  he  takes  up  a  book,  and  you  will 
see  that  the  first  things  that  he  looks  at  are  the  pictures.  Have  only 
those  in  the  house  that  appeal  to  the  better  nature.  One  engraving 
has  sometimes  decided  an  eternal  destiny.  Under  the  title  of  fine 
arts,  there  have  come  here,  from  France,  a  class  of  pictures  which 
elaborate  argument  has  tried  to  prove  irreproachable.  They  wouldt 
disgrace  a  bar-room,  and  they  need  to  be  confiscated.  Your  children 
will  carry  the  pictures  of  their  father's  house  with  them  clear  on  to  the 
grave,  and,  passing  that  marble  pillar,  will  take  them  through  eternity. 
Furthermore,  let  all  reformers  and  Sabbath-school  teachers  and 
Christian  workers  realize  that,  if  they  would  be  effective  for  good, 
they  must  make  pictures,  if  not  in  chalk  on  blackboards,  or  in  kinder- 
garten designs,  or  by  pencil  or  by  canvas,  then  by  wrords.  Arguments 
are  soon  forgotten,  but  pictures,  whether  in  language  or  in  colors,  are 
what  produce  the  strongest  effects.  Christ  was  always  telling  what  a 
thing  was  like,  and  his  Sermon  on  the  Mount  was  a  great  picture- 
gallery,  beginning  with  the  "City  that  is  set  upon  a  Hill,"  and  ending 
with  a  Tempest  beating  against  two  houses,  one  on  the  rock  and  the 
other  on  the  sand.  The  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son  was  a  picture  ; 
the  parable  of  the  Sower  who  went  out  to  sow,  a  picture  ;  the  parable 
of  the  Unmerciful  Sen-ant,  a  picture  ;  the  parable  of  the  Ten  Virgins, 
a  picture ;  the  parable  of  the  Talents,  a  picture.  The  world  wants 
pictures ;  and  the  appetite  begins  with  the  child,  who  consents  to  go 
early  to  bed  if  the  mother  will  sit  beside  him  and  rehearse  a  story, 
which  is  only  a  picture.  When  we  see  how  much  has  been  accom- 
plished in  secular  directions  by  pictures — Shakespeare's  tragedies,  a 
picture ;  Victor  Hugo's  writings,  all  pictures ;  John  Ruskin's  and 
Tennyson's  and  Longfellow's  works,  all  pictures — why  not  enlist,  as  far 
as  possible,  for  our  churches  and  schools,  and  for  our  reformatory 
work  and  evangelistic  endeavor,  the  power  of  thought  that  can  be  put 
into  word-pictures,  if  not  pictures  in  color  ?  Yea,  why  not  all  young 
men  draw  for  themselves  on  paper,  with  pen  or  pencil,  their  coming 
career,  of  virtue  if  they  prefer  it,  of  yice  if  they  prefer  that  ?  After 
making  the  picture,  put  it  on  the  wall  or  paste  it  on  the  fly-leaf  of  some 
favorite  book,  that  you  may  have  it  before  you.  I  read  the  other  day 
of  a  man  who  had  been  executed  for  murder,  and  the  jailer  found 


FALL  OF  THE  HOUSE  BUILT  ON   SAND 


187 


188 


THE  GI,ORY   OF  THE  NEW  JERUSALEM 


THE  MISSION  OF  PICTURES.  189 

afterwards  a  picture  on  the  wall  of  the  cell,  by  the  assassin  s  own 
hand — a  picture  of  a  flight  of  stairs.  On  the  lowest  step  he  had  writ- 
ten, "  Disobedience  ;  "  on  the  second  he  had  written,  "Sabbath-break- 
ing-; "  on  the  third,  "Drunkenness  and  Gambling;"  on  the  fourth, 
"  Murder,"  and  on  the  top  step  he  had  a  gallows.  If  that  man  had 
made  that  picture  before  he  had  taken  the  first  step,  he  would  never 
have  taken  any  more  of  them. 


A   MODEL   PICTURE. 


0  man,  make  another  picture,  a  bright  picture,  an  evangelical 
picture.     I  will  help  you  to  make  it.     I  suggest  six  steps  for  this  flight 
of  stairs.     On  the  first  step  write,  "A  nature  changed  by  the  power  of 
the   Holy  Ghost  and  washed  in  the  Blood  of  the   Lamb ; "  on  the 
second  step,   "  Industry  and  good  companionship  ;  "    on  the  third  step, 
"A  Christian  home  and  a  family  altar ;"   on   the  fourth  step,    "Ever- 
widening  influences ;"  on  the  fifth  step,   "A  glorious  departure  from 
the  world  ;"    and   on   the   last   step,   "Heaven,    Heaven,    Heaven!" 
Write  it  three  times,  and  -  let  the  letters  of  one  word  be  made  up  of 
banners,  and  the  second  of  coronets,  and  the  third  of  thrones.     Prom- 
ise me  that  you -will  dd  thit,  and  I  will  promise  to  meet  you  on  the 
sixth  step,   if  the  Lord  will,   through  his  pardoning  grace,   bring  me 
there  too. 

1  am  going  to  say  a  word  of  cheer  to  people  who  have  never  had 
a  word  of  consolation  on  that  subject.     There  are  men  and  women  in 
this  world  by  the  hundreds  and  the  thousands  who  have  a  fine  natural 
taste,  and  yet  all  their  lives  that  taste   has   been    suppressed ;  and 
although  they  could  appreciate  the  galleries  of  Dresden  and  Vienna 
and   Naples  far  more  than  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  out  of  the 
thousand  that  ..visit  them,   they   may  never  go,   for  they   must    sup- 
port their  households,  and  bread  and  schooling  for  their  children  are 
of  more  importance  than  pictures.     Though  fond  of  music,  they  are 
compelled  to  live  amid  discord  ;  and  though  fond  of  architecture,  they 
are  compelled  to  live  amid  clumsy  abodes.     Though  appreciative  of  ali 
that  engravings  and  paintings  can  do,  they  are  in  perpetual  depriva 
tion.     You  are  going,  after  you  get  on  the  sixth  step  of  that  stair  just 
spoken  of,  to  find  yourselves  in  the  royal  gallery  of  the  universe,   the 
concentered  splendors   of    all   the   worlds   before    your    transported 
vision.     In  some  way,  all  the  thrilling  scenes  through  which  we  and 


r9o  THE  MISSION  O*  PICTURES. 

the  Church  of  God  have  passed  in  our  earthly  state,  will  be  pictured 
or  brought  to  the  mind. 

At  the  cyclorama  of  the  battle  of  Gettysburg  one  day,  a  blind 
man,  who  had  lost  his  sight  in  that  battle,  was  heard  talking  with  his 
child,  while  standing  before  the  picture.  The  blind  man  said  to  his 
daughter,  "Are  there,  at  the  right  of  the  picture,  some  regiments 
marching  up  a  hill  ?  "  "  Yes,"  she  said.  "  Well,"  said  the  blind  man, 
"is  there  a  man  on  horseback,  leading  them  on?"  "Yes,"  she  said. 
"Well,  is  there  rushing  on  them  a  cavalry  charge?"  -"Yes,"  she 
said.  "And  do  there  seem  to  be  many  dying  and  dead?"  "Yes," 
was  the  answer.  "Well,  now,  do  you  see  the  shell  near  the  woods, 
bursting  near  the  cannon?"  "  Yes,"  she  said.  "Stop  right  there," 
said  the  blind  man  ;  "that  is  the  last  thing  that  I  ever  saw  on  earth. 
What  a  time  it  was,  Jennie,  when  I  lost  my  eyesight !  "  But  when 
you,  who  have  found  life  to  be  a  hard  battle,  a  very  Gettysburg,  shall 
stand  in  the  royal  gallery  of  heaven,  and  in  your  new  vision  begin  to 
understand  and  see  that  which,  in  your  earthly  blindness,  you  could 
not  see  at  all,  you  will  point  out  to  your  celestial  comrades,  perhaps 
to  your  own  dear  children,  the  scenes  of  the  earthly  conflicts  in  which 
you  participated,  saying,  "There,  from  the  hill  of  Prosperity  I  was 
driven  back.  There,  in  the  valley  of  Humiliation  I  was  wounded.  There 
I  lost  my  eyesight.  That  was  the  way  the  world  looked  when  I  last 
saw  it."  But  what  a  grand  thing  to  get  celestial  vision,  and  stand  here 
before  the  cyclorama  of  all  the  worlds,  while  the  rider  on  the  white 
horse  goes  on  "conquering" and  to  conquer,"  the  moon  under  his  feet 
and  the  stars  of  heaven  for  his  tiara ! 


LIGHT, 
THE  WORLD'S  EVANGEL 

BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


AFTER  a  season  of  storm  or  fog,  how  you  are  thrilled  when   the 
sun  comes  out  at  noonday !     The  mists  travel  up,   hill   above 
hill,    mountain  above  mountain,  until  they  are  sky-lost.     The 
forests  are  full  of  chirp  and  buzz  and  song ;  honey-makers  in  the  log, 
bird's  beak  pounding  the  bark,  the  chatter  of  the  squirrel  on   the  rail, 
the  call  of  a  hawk  out  of  the  clear  sky,  make  you  thankful  for  the  sun- 
shine which  makes  all  the  world  so  busy  and  so  glad.     The  same  sun 
which   in   the    morning  kindled  conflagrations  among  the  castles  of 
cloud,  stoops  down  to  paint  the  lily  white,  and  the  buttercup  yellow,  and 
the  forget-me-not  blue. 

Light  for  voyager  on  the  deep  ;  light  for  shepherds  guarding  the 
flocks  afield ;  light  for  the  poor  who  have  no  lamps  to  burn  ;  light  for 
the  downcast  and  the  weary  ;  light  for  aching  eyes  and  burning  brain 
and  consuming  captive  ;  light  for  the  smooth  brow  of  childhood  and 
the  dim  vision  of  the  octogenarian  ;  light  for  the  queen's  coronet  and 
the  sewing-girl's  needle.  "  Let  there  be  light." 

"CLEAR  AS  THE  SUN." 

"Who  is  she  that  looketh  forth  clear  as  the  sun?"  Our  answer 
is,  the  Church.  You  have  been  going  along  a  road  before  daybreak, 
and  on  one  side  you  thought  you  saw  a  lion,  and  on  the  other  side  you 
(thought  you  saw  a  goblin  of  the  darkness,  but  when  the  sun  came  out 
you  found  these  were  harmless  apparitions.  And  it  is  the  great  mission 
of  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  to  come  forth  "  clear  as  the  sun,"  to 
illumine  all  earthly  darkness,  to  explain,  as  far  as  possible,  all  mystery, 
and  to  make  the  world  radiant  in  its  brightness  ;  and  that  which  you 
thought  was  an  aroused  lion  is  found  out  to  be  a  slumbering  lamb ; 

the  sepulchral  gates  of  your  dead  turn  out  to  be  the  opening  gates 


tg?  LIGHT,   THE   WORLD'S  EVANGEL. 

of  heaven  ;  and  that  which  you  supposed  was  a  flaming-  sword  to  keep 
you  out  of  paradise,  is  an  angel  of  light  to  beckon  you  in. 

The  lamps  on  her  altars  will  cast  their  glow  on  your  darkest  path- 
way, and  cheer  you  until,  far  beyond  the  need  of  lantern  or  lighthouse, 
you  are  safely  anchored  within  the  veil.  O  sun  of  the  Church  !  shine 
on  until  there  is  no  sorrow  to  soothe,  no  tears  to  wipe  away,  no  shackles 
to  break,  no  more  souls  to  be  redeemed.  Ten  thousand  hands  of  sin 
Have  attempted  to  extinguish  the  lamps  on  her  altars,  but  they  are 


IN  THE  SUN-GLOW. 

quenchless  ;  and  to  silence  her  pulpits,  but  the  thunder  would  leap,  and 
the  lightning  would  flame. 

With  Christ  to  lead  us,  we  need  not  fear.  I  will  not  underrate 
the  enemy.  They  are  a  tremendous  host.  They  come  on  with  acutest 
strategy.  Their  weapons  have  been  forged  by  the  inhabitants  of  dark- 
ness in  furnaces  of  everlasting  fire.  We  contend  not  with  flesh  and 
blood,  but  with  principalities,  and  powers,  and  spiritual  wickedness  in 
high  places  ;  but,  if  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?  Come  on, 
ye  troops  of  the  Lord !  Fall  into  line !  CSs^.  up  the  ranks  !  On, 


LIGHT,    TH&    WORLD'S  EVANGEL.  19.? 

through  burning-  sands  and  over  frozen  mountain-tops,  until  the  whole 
earth  shall  surrender  to  God.  He  made  it ;  He  redeemed  it;  He  sha1! 
have  it.  They  shall  not  be  trampled  with  hoofs,  they  shall  not  be  cut 
with  sabers,  they  shall  not  be  crushed  with  wheels,  they  shall  not  be 
cloven  with  battle-axes,  but  the  marching,  and  the  onset,  and  the 
victory,  will  be  none  the  less  decisive  for  that. 

"  FAIR   AS   THE    MOON." 

The  world  will  not  be  up  to  the  Church  of  Christ  until  the 
day  when  all  merchandise  has  become  honest  merchandise,  and  all 
governments  have  become  free  governments,  and  all  nations  evangel- 
ized nations,  and  the  last  deaf  ear  of  spiritual  death  shall  be  broken 
open  by  the  million-voiced  shout  of  nations  born  in  a  day.  The  Church 
that  Nebuchadnezzar  tried  to  burn  in  the  furnace,  and  Darius  to  tear 
co  pieces  with  the  lions,  and  Lord  Claverhouse  to  cut  with  the  sword, 
has  gone  on,  wading  the  floods  and  enduring  the  fire,  until  the  deepest 
barbarism,  and  the  fiercest  cruelties,  and  the  blackest  superstitions, 
have  been  compelled  to  look  to  the  East,  crying,  "  Who  is  she  that 
looketh  forth  as  the  morning,  fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the  sun,  and 
terrible  as  an  army  with  banners?"  God,  who  has  determined  that 
everything  shall  be  beautiful  in  its  season,  has  not  left  the  night 
without  charm.  The  moon  rules  the  night.  The  stars  are  only  set  as 
nrems  in  her  tiara.  Sometimes  before  the  sun  has  gone  down  the 
moon  mounts  her  throne,  but  it  is  after  nightfall  that  she  sways  her  un- 
disputed scepter  over  island  and  continent,  river  and  sea.  Under  her 
light  the  plainest  maple  leaves  become  shivering  silver,  the  lakes  from 
shore  to  shore  look  like  shining  mirrors,  and  the  ocean,  under  her 
glance,  with  great  tides  comes  up  panting  upon  the  beach,  mingling,  as 
it  were,  foam  and  fire. 

Under  the  witchery  of  the  moon  the  awful  steeps  lose  their  rugged- 
ness,  and  the  chasms  their  terror.     The  poor  man   blesses    God   for 
throwing  so  cheap  a  light  through  the  broken  window-pane  of  hi? 
cabin,  and  to  the  sick  it  seems  like  a  light  from  the  other  shore  tha' 
bounds  this  great  deep  of  human  pain  and  woe.     If  the  sun  be  like  ; 
song,  full  and  loud  and  poured  forth  from  brazen  instruments  that  fill 
heaven  and  earth  with  harmony,  the  moon  is  plaintive  and   sad,  stand 
ing  beneath  the  throne  of  God,  sending  up  her  soft,  sweet  voice  o' 
praise,  while  the  stars  listen.     No  mother  ever  more  lovingly  watched 

13 


194 


LIGHT,  THE  WORLDS  EVANGEL.  195 

a  sick  cradle  than  this  pale  watcher  of  the  sky  bends  over  the  weary, 
heart-sick,  slumbering-  earth,  singing  to  it  silvery  music,  while  it  is 
rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  spheres. 

THE    BOW    OF    PROMISE. 

Yet  sad  is  the  spectacle  which  it  sees,  looking  down  upon  the 
earth.  Man  arrayed  against  man,  groan  echoing  groan.  From  Berlin 
to  Paris,  a  river  of  blood !  Russia  impatient  until  it  can  throttle 
England !  Throne  against  throne,  empire  against  empire !  The 
spirit  of  despotism  and  freedom  at  war  in  every  land  :  despotic 
America  against  free  America,  despotic  England  against  free  England, 
despotic  Germany  against  free  Germany,  despotic  Austria  against  free 
Austria.  The  great  battle  of  earth  is  being  fought — the  Armageddon 
of  the  nations.  The  song  that  unrolled  from  the  sky  on  the  first 
Christmas  night,  of  "peace  and  good  will  to  men,"  is  drowned  in  the 
booming  of  the  great  siege-guns.  Stand  back,  and  let  the  long  line 
of  ambulances  pass.  Groan  to  groan  !  Uncover,  and  look  upon  the 
trenches  of  the  dead.  Blood  !  blood  ! — a  deluge  of  blood  ! 

But  the  redeemed  of  heaven,  looking  upon  the  glorious  arch  that 
spans  the  throne,  shall  see  that  for  them  the  deluge  is  over.  No 
batteries  are  planted  on  those  hills  ;  no  barricades  block  those  streets  ; 
no  hostile  flag  floats  above  those  walls  ;  no  smoke  of  burning  villages  ; 
no  shrieks  of  butchered  men  ;  but  peace !  German  and  Frenchman, 
who  fell  with  arms  interlocked  in  hate  on  the  field  of  death,  now, 
through  Christ  in  heaven,  stand  with  arms  interlocked  in  love.  Arms 
stacked  forever  ;  shields  of  battle  hung  up.  The  dove  instead  of  the 
eagle  ;  the  lamb  instead  of  the  lion.  There  shall  be  nothing  to  hurt 
or  destroy  in  all  God's  holy  mount,  for  there  is  a  rainbow  round  about 
the  throne. 

The  earth  is  covered  with  the  deluge  of  sorrow.  Trouble  !  trouble  ! 
Our  very  first  utterance  when  we  come  into  the  world  is  a  cry.  With- 
out any  teaching,  we  learn  to  weep.  What  has  so  wrinkled  that  man's 
face?  What  has  so  prematurely  whitened  his  hair?  What  calls  out 
that  sigh  ?  What  starts  that  tear  ?  Trouble  !  trouble  !  I  find  it  in  the 
cellar  of  poverty,  and  far  up  among  the  heights  on  the  top  of  the 
crags  ;  for  this  deluge  also  has  gone  over  the  tops  of  the  highest 
mountains.  No  escape  from  it.  You  go  into  the  store,  and  it  meets 
you  at  your  counting-desk ;  you  go  into  the  street,  and  it  meets  you  at 


196  LIGHT,   THE  WORLD'S  EVANGEL. 

the  corner;  you  go  into  the  house,  and  it  meets  you  at  the  door.  Tears 
of  poverty  !  tears  of  persecution  !  tears  of  bereavement ! — a  deluge 
of  tears  !  Gathered  together  from  all  the  earth,  they  could  float  an 
ark  larger  than  Noah's. 

But  the  glorified,  looking  up  to  the  bow  that  spans  the  throne, 
shall  see  that  for  them  the  deluge  is  over.  No  shivering  wretch  on 
the  palace-step  ;  no  blind  man  at  the  gate  of  the  heavenly  temple,  ask- 
ing for  alms  ;  no  grinding  of  the  screw-driver  on  coffin-lid.  They  look 
up  at  the  rainbow,  and  read,  in  lines  of  yellow,  and  red,  and  green, 
and  blue,  and  orange,  and  indigo,  and  violet,  "They  shall  hunger  no 
more,  neither  thirst  any  more  ;  neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor 
any  heat ;  for  the  Lamb  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  feed 
them,  and  shall  lead  them  unto  living  fountains  of  waters,  and  God 
shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes."  Thank  God  for  the  glory 
spanning  the  throne  ! 

In  our  boyhood  we  had  a  superstition  that  at  the  foot  of  the  rain- 
bow there  was  a  casket  of  buried  gold  ;  but  I  have  to  announce  that  at 
the  foot  of  this  rainbow  of  heaven  there  is  a  box  made  of  the  wood  of 
the  cross.  Open  it,  and  you  find  in  it  all  the  treasures  of  heaven  ! 

VELOCITY    IN    HEAVEN. 

Christian  workers,  in  the  realm  of  the  redeemed,  will  shine  like 
the  stars  in  swiftness  of  motion.  The  worlds  do  not  stop  to  shine. 
There  are  no  fixed  stars  save  as  to  relative  position.  The  star  most 
thoroughly  fixed  flies  thousands  of  miles  a  minute.  The  astronomer, 
using  his  telescope  for  an  Alpine  stock,  leaps  from  world-crag  to  world- 
crag,  and  finds  no  star  standing  still.  The  chamois  hunter  has  to  fly  to 
catch  his  prey,  but  far  less  swift  is  his  game  than  that  which  the  scientist 
tries  to  shoot  through  the  tower  of  the  observatory.  Like  petrels  in 
mid-Atlantic,  that  seem  to  come  from  no  shore,  and  to  be  bound  to  no 
landing-place — flying,  flying — so  these  great  flocks  of  worlds  rest  not 
as  they  go — wing  and  wing — age  after  age — forever  and  ever. 

The  eagle  hastes  to  its  prey,  but  we  shall  in  speed  beat  the  eagles. 
You  have  noticed  the  velocity  of  the  swift  horse  under  whose  feet  the 
miles  slip  like  a  smooth  ribbon,  and  as  he  passes,  the  four  hoofs  strike 
the  earth  in  such  quick  beat  that  your  pulses  take  the  same  vibration. 
But  all  these  things  are  not  swift  in  comparison  with  the  motion  of 
which  I  speak.  The  moon  moves  fifty-four  thousand  miles  in  a  day. 


LIGHT,   THE   WORLD'S  EVANGEL.  I9; 

Yonder,  Neptune  flashes  on  eleven  thousand  miles  in  an  hour.  Yonder, 
Mercury  goes  one  hundred  and  nine  thousand  miles  an  hour.  So,  like 
the  stars,  the  Christian  worker  shall  shine  in  swiftness  of  motion. 

You  hear  now  of  father,   or  mother,   or  child  sick  one  thousand 
miles  away,  and  it  takes  you  two  days  to  get  to  them.     You  hear  of 
some  case  of  suffering  that  demands  your  immediate  attention,  but  i 
takes  you  an  hour  to  get  there.    Oh,  the  joy  when  you  shall  take  starn 
speed,  and  flash  onward  one  hundred  thousand  miles  an  hour  !    Having 
on  earth  got  used  to  Christian  work,  you  will  not  cease  working  when 


THE  STORMY  PETREL. 

death  strikes  you.  You  will  only  take  on  more  velocity.  There  is  ;i 
dying  child  in  London,  and  its  spirit  must  be  taken  up  to  God :  you 
are  there  in  an  instant  to  do  it.  There  is  a  young  man  in  New  York 
to  be  arrested  from  going  into  that  gate  of  sin  :  you  are  there  in  an 
instant  to  arrest  him.  Whether  with  spring  of  foot,  or  stroke  of  wing, 
or  by  the  force  of  some  new  law,  that  shall  hurl  you  to  the  spot  where 
you  would  go,  I  know  not ;  but  marvellous  shall  be  your  velocity.  All 
space  open  before  you,  with  nothing  to  hinder  you  in  mission  of  light, 
and  love,  and  joy,  you  shall  shine  in  swiftness  of  motion  "as  the  stars 
forever  and  ever," 


ATTACKS  ON  THE  BIBLE 
BY  REV.  T  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


TO  prove  that  the  Bible  is  an  impure  book,  its  enemies  read  cer- 
tain portions  of  it  and  say,  "  Now,  that  is  not  fit  for  the  eye  or 
the  ear  of  the  domestic  circle."  They  take  Solomon's  song,  read 
certain  portions,  make  their  own  interpretation,  and  then  fling  down 
the  book  and  call  the  Scriptures  a  polluted  collection  of  writings.  Yet 
there  is  a  principle  that  no  one  will  deny,  namely,  that  an  impure  book 
has  impure  results.  That  cause  produces  that  result.  Now,  you  have 
known  a  great  many  people  who  read  the  Bible,  among  your  own 
friends — a  great  many  who  have  been  reading  it  for  yeat"s.  How  many 
of  them  have  had  their  morals  despoiled  ?  Did  it  make  your  father  an 
impure  man  ?  Did  it  make  your  mother  a  bad  woman  ?  What  effect 
had  it  upon  your  sister  who  died  in  the  faith  of  the  Gospel,  and  who 
has  been  now  some  ten  or  fifteen  years  in  heaven  ?  Were  their  morals 
tarnished  ?  Did  they  become  impure  of  speech,  impure  of  action  ? 

Two  hundred  and  fifty  million  copies  of  an  impure  book  scattered 
among  the  nations  !  Why,  there  must  have  been  a  great  many  victims  ! 
Show  me  a  thousand,  show  me  five  hundred,  show  me  a  hundred,  show 
me  fifty,  show  me  five,  show  me  two,  show  me  one.  I  am  not  particular 
about  the  specimen  you  give  me,  whether  man,  woman,  child,  white, 
black,  copper-colored,  American,  African,  European,  Asiatic.  Just  one 
specimen  give  me — a  man  who  was  pure  before,  made  impure  by  the 
reading  of  the  Scriptures.  I  am  not  confining  you  to  this  day.  Go 
through  all  the  four  thousand  years  that  have  passed,  and  show  me  a 
victim.  On  the  contrary,  you  know  that  the  family  institution  is  no- 
where regarded  except  in  Bible-reading  countries.  You  know  that  the 
only  foundation  of  the  home  institution  is  the  Word  of  God.  What  is 
the  difference  between  Sodom,  Constantinople,  Madras,  Pekin  on  the 
one  hand,  and  our  American  cities  on  the  other  ?  No  difference  except 
('99) 


,00  ATTACK- 

Bible  and  no  Bible.  I  challenge  all  earth  and  hell  for  one  victim  of  the 
two  hundred  and  fifty  million  copies  of  what  you  say  is  an  impure 
book !  The  charge  falls  flat  in  the  presence  of  every  honest  manL 

A    CRUEL   BOOK. 

Modern  infidelity  goes  on  and  says  that  the  Bible  is  a  cruel  book, 

and  its  enemies  read  the 

stories  of    the   ancient 

wars,  and  read  passages 

.rrom  the  lives  of  David 

Joshua,  and  read 
about  the  extermination 
of  the  Canaanrtes,  and 
then  declare  that  the 
Bible  is  in  favor  of  lacer- 
ation and  manslaughter 
and  massacre.  Well, 
now,  among  your  ac- 
quaintances who  have 
read  the  Bible,  have  you 
noticed  that  in  propor- 
tion as  they  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  Script- 
ures and  fond  of  the 
Scriptures  they  got  cruel  FIK^W  *,-  •"-  *  -  "'^P-'*5' 

in  their  habits?     Have  '^jPGdPE^W* 

you  ever  known  any  of  -*.-**-..* 

them  to  come  out  and 
practically  say,  "I  have 
been  reading  in  the 
Bible  that  story  about 
the  extermination  of  the 
Canaanites,  and  I  am 
seized  with  a  disposition 
to  stab,  and  cut,  and  beat,  and  knock  to  pieces  everything  I  can  lay  my 
hands  on  "  ?  What  has  been  the  effect  upon  your  children  ?  As  they  be- 
came more  and  more  fond  of  the  Scriptures,  have  they  become  more 
and  more  fond  of  tearing  off  the  wings  of  flies,  and  pinning  grasshop- 
pers, and  robbing  birds'  nests  ? 


CHRISTIAN  HUMANITY. 


ATTACKS  ON  THE  BIBLE.  201 

If  the  Bible  were  a  cruel  book,  that  would  be  the  direction  of  the 
result.  So  far  from  that,  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  all  the  institu- 
tions of  mercy — not  of  cruelty — but  all  the  institutions  of  mercy,  were 
founded  by  Bible  readers,  Bible  believers.  When  did  this  book  put 
cruelty  into  the  heart  of  George  Peabody,  or  Miss  Dix,  or  Florence 
Nightingale,  or  John  Howard,  or  John  Frederick  Oberlin,  or  Abbott 
Lawrence  ?  Go  into  a  hospital.  There  are  twenty  Christian  women 
binding  up  the  wounds,  giving  the  cordials,  kneeling  by  the  dying 
pillow,  and  saying,  "Lord  Jesus,  receive  this  poor  man's  spirit." 
Where  does  the  cruelty  of  the  Bible  crop  out  in  their  lives  ?  Do  you 
find  it  in  the  gentleness  of  their  step,  or  in  the  soft  cadence  of  their 
voice,  or  their  soothing  words  in  the  dying  hour  ? 

O  sirs,  when  you  can  make  a  rose  leaf  stab  like  a  bayonet,  when 
you  can  manufacture  icicles  out  of  the  south  wind,  when  you  can  poison 
the  tongue  with  honey  gotten  from  blossoming  buckwheat,  then  you 
can  find  cruelty  gotten  out  of  the  Bible.  That  charge  falls  flat  in  the 
presence  of  every  honest  man. 

CONTRADICTORY. 

But  the  Bible,  modern  infidelity  says,  is  a  mass  of  contradictions, 
and  they  put  chapter  against  chapter,  and  prophet  against  prophet,  and 
apostle  against  apostle,  and  say,  "  Now,  if  this  is  so,  how  can  that  be 
so?"  Mr.  Mill,  who  was  a  friend  of  the  Bible,  and  who  translated 
many  parts  of  it,  declared  that  he  had  found  thirty  thousand  different 
readings  of  Bible  passages,  and  he  declared  also  that  there  was  not  one 
important  difference,  and  no  difference  except  what  might  be  accounted 
for  from  the  fact  that  the  Bible  came  down  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion, and  was  copied  by  many  different  hands,  while  at  the  same  time 
all  the  Bible  writers  agree  in  the  great  cardinal  doctrines  of  the  Bible  : 
God — good,  holy,  just,  forgiving,  omnipotent.  Man — a  lost  sinner. 
Christ — an  all-glorious,  all-sympathetic  Saviour,  ready  to  take  the 
whole  world  to  his  heart.  Two  destinies — one  for  believers,  the  other 
for  unbelievers. 

Now,  those  are  about  the  four  great  doctrines  of  the  Bible,  and 
all  these  writers  agree  in  them.  Mozart,  Beethoven,  Handel,  or  Haydn 
never  wrote  or  heard  a  better  harmony.  Besides  that,  you  are  to  re- 
member that  the  Bible  was  written  by  many  different  persons  in  many- 
different  lands,  and  in  different  ages  ;  and  that  these  persons  had  no  com- 


«o2  ATTACKS  ON  THE  BIBLE. 

munication  with  each  other,  and  that  they  did  not  know  the  great  design 
of  the  Bible,  and  yet,  after  all,  the  fragments  of  their  work  have  been 
gathered  up  from  all  lands  and  all  ages,  and  been  put  together,  and  they 
make  a  complete  harmony.so  pronounced  by  the  best  scholars  of  this  age. 
It  is  as  though  some  great  cathedral  were  to  be  built  and  a  hun- 
dred workmen  were  to  be  employed  on  it,  and  they  lived  in  many  lands, 
and  in  different  centuries,  and  these  workmen  had  no  communication 
with  each  other  in  regard  to  the  grand  design  of  the  building  ;  and  yet 
when  all  their  fragments  of  work  were  brought  together,  they  formed 
a  perfect  architectural  triumph,  although  the  man  who  built  a  pillar 
knew  nothing  of  the  man  who  built  the  dome,  and  the  man  who  built 
the  doorway  knew  nothing  of  the  man  who  lifted  the  arch.  Yet  a  com- 
plete accord,  a  complete  architecture,  and  a  complete  triumph. 

OPPOSED    TO    SCIENCE. 

Again,  it  is  charged  that  the  Bible  is  unscientific.  It  says  that 
there  was  light  before  the  sun  was  created.  How  is  that  possible  ? 
It  intimates  that  the  sun  turns  round  the  earth,  when  the  compliment  is 
in  the  other  direction.  It  says  sun  and  moon  halted,  when  their  halting 
would  have  thrown  the  machinery  of  the  universe  out  of  gear.  It  says 
that  water  was  turned  into  wine,  and  declares  other  absurdities  and 
impossibilities.  My  friends,  who  told  you  that  there  was  an  unbridgeable 
gulf  between  Science  and  Revelation?  You  answer,  "Stuart  Mill, 
Darwin,  Tyndall,  Renan."  Yes  ;  they  saw  a  discord  between  Science 
and  Revelation.  I  can  give  you  the  names  of  men  who  tell  you  there 
is  perfect  accord  between  Science  and  Revelation  ;  I  could  give  you 
the  names  of  men  as  much  higher  than  those  whom  I  have  just  men- 
tioned as  Mount  Washington  and  the  Himalayas  are  higher  than  the 
Ridgewood  Waterworks — Herschel,  Kepler,  Leibnitz,  Ross,  Isaac 
Newton.  Did  you  ever  hear  General  Mitchell  or  Dr.  Doremus  lecture 
on  the  harmony  between  Science  and  Revelation  ?  Science  is  a  boy. 
Revelation,  a  man.  The  boy  thinks  he  knows  more  than  the  man,  and 
asks  many  unanswered  questions. 

The  great  temple  of  nature  has  two  orchestras — the  orchestra  of 
Revelation  and  the  orchestra  of  Science.  The  orchestra  of  Revelation 
has  its  musical  instruments  all  strung,  and  it  is  ready  for  a  burst  of 
eternal  accord.  Science  is  only  stringing  its  instruments.  You  will 
have  to  wait,  but  after  a  while  it  will  be  as  in  some  of  those  cathedrals 


ATTACKS  ON  THE  BIBLE.  203 

in  Germany,  where  they  have  an  organ  at  one  end  of  the  cathedral 
and  an  organ  at  the  other  end,  and  they  respond  to  each  other. 
So  it  will  be  in  the  great  temple  of  the  universe  ;  the  orchestra  of 
Revelation  and  the  orchestra  of  Science  will  respond  to  each  other, 
and  into  one  wreath  will  be  twisted  the  Rose  of  Sharon  and  the  laurel 
of  scholarly  achievement,  and  the  roar  of  the  ocean  will  be  the  mag- 
nificent bass  of  the  temple  worshipers,  and  the  earth  itself  will  be 
found  to  be  only  the  pedals  of  a  great  organ  of  which  the  heavens  are 
the  keyboard. 

YOUNG    MEN    ROBBED. 

Take  away  a  young  man's  religion  and  you  make  him  the  prey  of 
evil.  We  all  know  that  the  Bible  offers  the  only  perfect  system  of 
morals.  If  you  want  to  destroy  the  young  man's  morals,  take  away 
his  Bible.  How  will  you  do  that?  Well,  you  will  caricature  his  rever- 
ence for  the  Scriptures  ;  you  will  take  all  those  incidents  of  the  Bible 
which  can  be  made  mirth  of — Jonah's  whale,  Samson's  foxes,  Adam's 
rib — then  you  will  caricature  eccentric  Christians,  or  inconsistent 
Christians  ;  then  you  will  pass  off  as  your  own  all  those  hackneyed 
arguments  against  Christianity  which  are  as  old  as  Tom  Paine,  as  old 
as  Voltaire,  as  old  as  sin.  Now  that  you  have  captured  his  Bible  you 
have  taken  his  strongest  fortress,  and  the  way  is  comparatively  clear; 
all  the  gates  of  his  soul  are  set  open  in  invitation  to  the  sins  of  earth 
and  the  sorrows  of  death,  that  they  may  come  in  and  drive  the  stake 
for  their  encampment. 

A  steamer  fifteen  hundred  miles  from  shore,  with  broken  rudder 
and  lost  compass,  and  hulk  leaking  fifty  gallons  the  hour,  is  better  off 
than  a  young  man  when  you  have  robbed  him  of  his  Bible.  Have  you 
ever  noticed  how  despicably  mean  it  is  to  take  away  the  world's  Bible 
without  proposing  a  substitute  ?  It  is  meaner  than  to  come  to  a  sick 
man  and  steal  his  medicine  ;  meaner  than  to  come  to  a  cripple  and 
steal  his  crutch  ;  meaner  than  to  come  to  a  pauper  and  steal  his  crust ; 
meaner  than  to  come  to  a  poor  man  and  burn  his  house  down.  It  is  the 
worst  of  all  larcenies  to  steal  the  Bible  which  has  been  crutch  and  medi- 
cine and  food  and  eternal  home  to  so  many.  What  a  generous  and  mag- 
nanimous business  infidelity  has  gone  into — this  splitting  up  of  life-boats, 
and  taking  away  of  fire-escapes,  and  extinguishing  of  light-houses  ! 

I  say  to  such  people,  "What  are  you  doing  all  this  for?"  "Oh  !" 
they  say,  "just  for  fun"  It  is  such  fun  to  see  Christians  try  to  hold 


204  ATTACKS  ON  THE  BIBLE. 

on  to  their  Bibles!  Many  of  them  have  lost  loved  ones,  and  have  been 
told  that  there  is  a  resurrection,  and  it  is  such  fun  to  tell  them  that 
there  will  be  no  resurrection  !  Many  of  them  have  believed  that  Christ 
came  to  carry  the  burdens  and  to  heal  the  wounds  of  the  world,  and 
it  is  such  fun  to  tell  them  that  they  will  have  to  be  their  own  saviours ! 
Think  of  the  meanest  thing  you  ever  heard  of;  then  go  down  a 
thousand  feet  underneath  it,  and  you  will  find  yourself  at  the  top  of  a 
stairway  a  hundred  miles  long  ;  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  and  you 
will  find  a  ladder  a  thousand  miles  long ;  then  go  to  the  foot  of  the 
ladder  and  look  off  a  precipice  half  as  deep  as  from  here  to  China,  and 
you  will  see  the  headquarters  of  the  meanness  that  would  rob  this  world 
of  its  only  comfort  in  life,  its  only  peace  in  death,  and  its  only  hope  for 
immortality!  Slaughter  a  young  man's  faith  in  God,  and  there  is  not 
much  more  left  to  slaughter. 

Now,  what  has  become  of  the  slaughtered  ?  Well,  some  of  them 
are  in  their  father's  or  mother's  house,  broken  down  in  health,  waiting 
to  die  ;  others  are  in  the  hospital ;  others  are  in  the  cemetery.  Not 
much  prospect  for  a  young  man  who  started  life  with  good  health,  and 
good  education,  and  a  Christian  example  set  him,  and  an  opportunity 
of  usefulness,  when  he  has  gathered  all  his  treasures  and  put  them  in 
one  box,  and  then  dropped  it  into  the  sea. 

How  is  this  wholesale  slaughter  to  be  stopped  ?  Young  man,  you 
must  arm  yourself  for  the  battle  of  life.  Wait  not  for  Christian  asso- 
ciations or  churches  to  protect  you.  Your  help  will  not  come  up  two, 
or  three,  or  four  flights  of  stairs  ;  your  help  will  come  through  the  roof— 
down  from  heaven — from  that  God  who  in  the  six  thousand  years  oi 
the  world's  history  never  betrayed  a  young  man  who"  tried  to  do  right. 
In  regard  to  your  adverse  circumstances,  let  me  say  that  you  are  now 
on  a  level  with  those  who  are  finally  to  succeed.  Those  who,  thirty 
years  from  now,  will  be  the  millionaires  of  this  country,  the  orators  of 
the  country,  the  poets  of  the  country,  the  strong  merchants  of  the 
country,  the  great  philanthropists  of  the  country — mightiest  in  church 
and  state — are  at  this  moment  on  a  level  with  you,  not  an  inch  above, 
though  you  be  in  straitened  circumstances. 

THE    BEST   CAPITAL. 

Herschel  earned  his  living  by  playing  a  violin  at  parties,  and  in  the 
intervals  of  the  play  he  would  go  out  and  look  up  at  the  midnight 


THE    BEST    CAPITAL    IS    CHARACTER. 


ATTACKS  ON  TIfE  BIBLE.  207 

heavens — the  fields  of  his  immortal  conquests.  George  Stephenson 
rose  from  being  the  foreman  in  a  colliery  to  be  the  most  renowned  of 
tlu  world's  engineers.  Do  not  say  that  you  have  no  outfit,  no  capital 
to  start  with !  Young  man,  go  down  to  the  Mercantile  Library  and 
get  some  books  and  read  of  what  wonderful  mechanism  God  gave  you 
in  your  hand,  in  your  foot,  in  your  eye,  in  your  ear;  and  then  ask  some 
doctor  to  take  you  into  the  dissecting-room  and  illustrate  to  you  what 
you  have  read  about ;  and  never  again  commit  the  blasphemy  of  saying 
that  you  have  no  capital  to  start  with.  Equipped  !  Why,  the  poorest 
young  man  in  the  land  is  equipped  as  only  the  God  of  the  whole  uni- 
verse could  afford  to  equip  him.  I  am  not  so  much  anxious  about 
you,  young  man,  because  you  have  so  little  to  do  with,  as  I  am 
anxious  about  you  because  you  have  so  much  to  risk,  and  to  lose  or 
gain. 

There  is  no  class  of  persons  that  so  stir  my  sympathies  as  young 
men  in  great  cities.  Receiving  not  quite  enough  salary  to  live  on,  and 
exposed  to  all  the  temptations  that  come  from  that  deficit.  Invited  on 
all  hands  to  drink,  and  their  exhausted  nervous  system  seeming  to  de- 
mand stimulus.  Their  religion  caricatured  by  the  most  of  the  clerks 
in  the  store,  and  most  of  the  operatives  in  the  factory.  The  rapids  of 
temptation  and  death  rushing  against  them  at  forty  miles  the  hour,  and 
they  in  a  frail  boat  headed  up  stream,  with  nothing  but  a  broken  oar 
to  work  with.  There  is  not  a  street  but  that  opens  to  them  a  hundred 
temptations  to  wrong-doing,  not  a  club-room  in  which  sin  does  not  hold 
out  to  them  its  fatal  right  hand  of  fellowship,  not  a  theater  in  whose 
plays  does  not  lurk  a  host  of  incentives  to  vice,  hardly  a  place  of  recre- 
ation in  which  some  insidious  or  open  evil  does  not  dwell,  while  behind 
the  doors  of  even  many  a  home  await  them  the  cards,  the  wine-cup,  or 
some  other  of  Satan's  invitations  to  his  kingdom.  Unless  Almighty 
God  help  them  they  must  go  under. 

When  I  tell  you  to  take  care  of  yourself,  you  misunderstand  me 
if  you  think  I  mean  that  you  are  to  depend  upon  human  resolution, 
which  may  be  dissolved  in  the  foam  of  the  wine-cup,  or  may  be  blown 
out  with  the  first  gust  of  temptation.  Here  is  the  helmet,  the  sword 
of  the  Lord  God  Almighty.  Clothe  yourself  in  that  panoply,  and  you 
shall  not  be  put  to  confusion.  Sin  pays  well  neither  in  this  world  nor 
the  next,  but  right  thinking,  and  right  believing,  and  right  acting  will 
take  you  in  safety  through  this  life  and  in  transport  through  the  next. 


*r8  ATTACKS  ON  THE  BIBLE. 

I  shall  never  forget  a  prayer  I  heard  a  young  man  make  some 
fifteen  years  ago.  It  was  a  very  short  prayer,  but  it  was  a  tremendous 
prayer :  "  O  Lord,  help  us  !  We  find  it  so  very  easy  to  do  wrong  and 
so  hard  to  do  right.  Lord,  help  us  ! "  That  prayer,  I  warrant  you. 
reached  the  ear  and  the  heart  of  God. 

A   TURNING-POINT   IN    LIFE. 

I  got  a  letter  last  night,  one  paragraph  of  which  1  shall  transcribe 
"  Having  moved  around  somewhat,  I  have  run  across  many  young 
men  of  intelligence,  ardent  strivers  after  that  will-o'-the-wisp — fortune 
— and  of  one  of  these  I  would  speak.  He  was  a  young  Englishman 
of  twenty-three  or  four  years,  who  came  to  New  York,  where 
he  had  no  acquaintances,  with  barely  sufficient  to  keep  him  a  couple 
of  weeks.  He  had  been  tenderly  reared,  perhaps  I  should  say  too 
tenderly,  and  was  not  used  to  earning  his  living,  and  found  it  extreme- 
ly difficult  to  ger  •,  \L\  that  he  was  capable  of  filling.  After 
many  vain  efforts  in  this  direction  he  found  himself  on  a  Sunday  even- 
ing in  Brooklyn,  near  your  church,  with  about  three  dollars  left  of  his 
small  capital.  Providence  seemed  to  lead  him  to  your  door,  and  he  de- 
termined to  go  in  and  hear  you.  He  told  me  that  his  going  to  hear  you 
that  night  was  undoubtedly  the  turning-point  in  his  life,  for  when  he 
went  into  your  church  he  felt  desperate,  but  while  listening  to  your  dis- 
course his  better  nature  got  the  mastery.  I  truly  believe  from  what 
this  young  man  told  me  that  your  sounding  the  depths  of  his  hsart  that 
night  alone  brought  him  back  to  his  God  whom  he  was  so  near  leaving." 


JOURNALISM  AND  EVANGELISM 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


ACRED  stupidity,  and  solemn  incompetency,  and  sanctified  lazi 
ness  received  a  severe  rebuke  when  Christ  said,    "  The  children 
of  this  world  are,  in  their  generation,  wiser  than  the  children  of 
light."     Men  of  the  world  grasp  occasions,  while  Christian  people  let 
the  most  valuable  occasions  drift  by  unimproved. 

A  marked  illustration  of  this  maxim  is  in  the  slowness  of  the 
Christian  religion  to  take  possession  of  the  secular  printing-press. 
The  opportunity  is  open,  and  has  been  for  some  time  open,  but  the 
ecclesiastical  courts  and  the  churches  and  the  ministers  of  religion  are, 
for  the  most  part,  allowing  the  golden  opportunity  to  pass  unimproved. 
That  the  opportunity  is  open,  I  declare,  from  the  fact  that  all  the  secu- 
lar newspapers  are  glad  of  any  religious  facts  or  statistics  that  you  may 
present  them.  Any  animated  and  stirring  article  relating  to  religious 
themes  they  would  gladly  print.  They  thank  you  for  any  information 
in  regard  to  churches.  If  a  wrong  has  been  done  to  any  Christian 
church,  or  Christian  institution,  you  could  go  to  any  newspaper  in  the 
land  and  have  the  real  truth  stated.  Dedication  services,  ministerial 
ordinations,  pastoral  installments,  the  corner-stone  laying  of  any  church, 
the  anniversary  of  any  charitable  society,  will  have  a  reasonable  space 
in  any  secular  journal,  if  it  have  previous  notice  given.  Why,  then, 
does  not  our  glorious  Christianity  embrace  these  magnificent  opportu- 
nities? This  suggests  a  theme  of  first  and  last  importance:  How 
shall  we  secure  the  secular  press  as  a  mightier  reinforcement  to  religion 
and  the  pulpit  ? 

The  first  step  toward  this  result  is  cessation  of  indiscriminate 
hostilities  against  newspaperdom.  You  might  as  well  denounce  the 
legr»l  profession  because  of  the  shysters,  or  the  medical  profession 
because  of  the  quacks,  or  the  mercantile  profession  because  of  its 


14 


2io  JOURNALISM  AND  EVANGELISM. 

swindling  bargain-makers,  as  to  slam-bang  newspapers  because  there 
are  recreant  editors,  and  unfair  reporters,  and  unclean  columns. 

WHAT   SHALL    BE    DONE  ? 

If,  instead  of  fighting  newspapers,  we  spent  the  same  length  of 
time  and  employed  the  same  vehemence  in  marshaling  their  help  in 
religious  directions,  we  would  show  as  much  more  wisdom,  as  the  man 
who  gets  the  consent  of  the  railway  superintendent  to  fasten  a  car  to 
the  end  of  a  train,  shows  better  sense  than  he  who  runs  his  wheelbar- 
row up  the  track  to  meet  and  drive  back  the  Chicago  limited  express. 
The  silliest  thing  a  man  ever  does  is  to  fight  a  newspaper,  for  you 
may  have  the  floor  for  utterance  perhaps  for  one  day  in  the  week, 
v/hile  the  newspapers  have  the  floor  every  day  in  the  week.  Napoleon, 
though  a  mighty  man,  had  many  weaknesses,  and  one  of  the  weakest 
things  he  ever  did  was  to  threaten  that  if  the  English  newspapers  did 
not  stop  their  adverse  criticism  of  himself  he  would  with  four  hundred 
thousand  bayonets  cross  the  channel  for  their  chastisement. 

Don'i;  fight  newspapers.  Attack  provokes  attack.  Better  wait 
until  the  excitement  blows  over,  and  then  go  in  and  get  justice,  for  get 
it  you  will  if  you  have  patience  and  common-sense  and  equipoise  of 
disposition.  It  ought  to  be  a  mighty  sedative  that  there  is  an  enor- 
mous amount  of  common-sense  in  the  world,  and  that  you  will  event- 
ually be  taken  for  what  you  are  really  worth,  and  that  you  cannot  be 
puffed  up  and  you  cannot  be  written  down.  If  you  are  the  enemy  of 
good  society,  that  fact  will  come  out,  and  if  you  are  the  friend  of  good 
society,  that  fact  will  be  established. 

Young1  men  in  the  ministry,  young  men  in  all  professions  and 
occupations,  wait.  There  is  only  one  person  that  you  need  to  manage, 
and  that  is  yourself.  Keep  your  dispositions  sweet  by  communion 
with  the  Christ,  who  answered  not  again.  Cherish  the  society  of  con- 
I genial  people,  and  walk  out  in  the  sunshine  with  your  hat  off,  and  you 
will  come  out  all  right. 

UTILIZE   THE    PRESS. 

In  this  effort  to  secure  the  secular  press  as  a  mightier  reinforce- 
ment of  religion,  let  us  make  it  the  avenue  of  religious  information. 
My  advice,  given  to  friends  who  propose  to  start  a  newspaper,  is : 
"Don't!  don't!  Employ  the  papers  already  started."  The  biggest 


JOURNALISM  AND  F.  V  INGELlMM.  211 

financial  hole  ever  dug  in  the  American  continent  is  the  hole  in  which 
good  people  throw  their  money  when  they  start  a  newspaper.  It  is 
almost  as  good  and  as  quick  a  way  of  getting  rid  of  money  as  that  of 
buying  stock  in  a  gold-mine  in  Colorado.  It  is  not  more  printing- 
presses  that  we  need,  but  the  right  to  use  those  already  established. 
All  their  cylinders,  all  their  steam  power,  all  their  pens,  all  their  type, 
all  their  editorial  chairs  and  reportorial  rooms,  are  available  if  you 
would  engage  them  in  behalf  of  civilization  and  Christianity. 

Again,  if  you  would  secure  the  secular  press  as  a  mightier  rein- 
forcement of  religion  and  the  pulpit,  extend  the  widest  and  highest 
Christian  courtesy  to  the  representatives  of  journalism.  Give  them 
easy-chairs  and  plenty  of  room  when  they  come  to  report  your  remarks. 
For  the  most  part  they  are  gentlemen  of  education  and  refinement, 
graduates  from  college,  with  families  to  support  by  their  literary  craft, 
many  of  them  weary  with  the  push  of  a  business  that  is  precarious  and 
fluctuating,  each  of  them  the  avenue  of  information  to  thousands  of 
readers,  while  their  impression  of  the  services  will  be  the  impression 
adopted  by  multitudes.  They  are  the  connecting  links  between  the 
sermon,  the  song,  or  the  prayer,  and  this  great  population  that  tramp 
up  and  down  the  streets  day  by  day,  and  year  by  year,  with  their  sor- 
rows uncomforted  and  their  sins  unpardoned.  There  are  more  than 
eight  hundred  thousand  people  in  Brooklyn,  and  less  than  seventy-five 
thousand  enter  the  churches  ;  so  that  our  city  is  not  so  much  preached 
to  by  ministers  of  religion  as  by  reporters.  Let  us  put  all  journalists 
into  our  prayers  and  sermons.  Of  the  hundred  thousand  sermons 
preached  next  Sunday,  there  will  not  be  three  preached  to  journalists, 
and  probably  not  one.  Of  all  the  prayers  offered  for  classes  of  men 
innumerable,  the  prayers  offered  for  the  most  potential  class  will  be 
so  few  and  rare  that  they  will  be  thought  a  preacher's  idiosyncrasy. 

SUNDAY    PAPERS    DEPRECATED. 

"But,"  some  one  might  ask,  "would  you  take  Sunday  newspapers 
as  a  reinforcement  ?"  I  have  learned  to  take  things  as  they  are.  I  would 
like  to  see  the  much-scoffed-at  old  Puritan  Sabbaths  come  back  again. 
I  do  not  think  the  modern  Sunday  will  turn  out  any  better  men  and 
women  than  were  your  grandfathers  and  grandmothers  under  the 
old-fashioned  Sunday.  To  say  nothing  of  other  results,  Sunday  news- 
papers arc  killing  editors,  reporters,  compositors,  an  1  pressmen. 


2T2  JOIRXAL/SM  AND  EVANGELISM. 

Every  man,  woman,  and  child  is  entitled  to  twenty-four  hours  of  noth- 
ing to  do.  If  the  newspaper  puts  o;i  another  set  of  hands,  that  does 
not  relieve  the  editorial  room  and  the  reportorial  room  of  their  cares 
and  responsibilities.  Our  literary  men  die  fast  enough  without  killing 
them  with  Sunday  work. 

Again,  we  shall  secure  the  secular  press  as  a  mightier  reinforce- 
ment of  religion  and  the  pulpit,  by  making  our  religious  utterances 
more  interesting  and  spirited,  and  then  the  press  will  reproduce  them./ 
On  the  way  to  church,  some  fifteen  years  ago,  a  journalist  said  a  thing 
that  has  kept  me  ever  since  thinking:  "  Are  you  going  to  give  us  any 
points  to-day  ?"  "What  do  you  mean?"  I  said.  He  replied:  "I 
mean  anything  that  is  striking  enough  to  be  remembered."  Then  I 
said  to  myself :  "What  right  have  we  in  our  pulpits  and  Sunday- 
schools  to  take  the  time  of  the  people  if  we  say  nothing  that  is  memo- 
rable? David  did  not  have  any  difficulty  in  remembering  Nathan's 
thrust:  'Thou  art  the  man.'  Nor  did  Felix  in  remembering  Paul's 
point-blank  utterance  on  '  righteousness,  temperance  and  judgment 
to  come.'  ' 

What  we  want,  all  of  us,  is  more  point  and  less  humdrum.  If 
we  say  the  right  thing  in  the  right  way,  the  press  will  be  glad  to  echo 
and  re  echo  it.  Sabbath-school  teachers,  reformers,  young  men  and 
old  men  in  the  ministry,  what  we  all  want,  if  we  are  to  make  the 
printing-press  an  ally  in  Christian  work,  is  that  which  the  reporter 
spoken  of  suggested — points — sharp  points,  memorable  points.  But 
if  the  thing  be  dead  when  uttered  by  the  living  voice,  it  will  be  a 
hundred-fold  more  dead  when  laid  out  in  cold  type. 

TREATY    PROPOSED. 

Now,  as  you  all  have  something  to  do  with  the  newspaper  press, 
either  in  issuing  a  paper  or  in  reading  it,  either  as  producers  or 
patrons,  either  as  sellers  or  purchasers  of  the  printed  sheet,  I  propose 
that  a  treaty  be  signed  between  the  church  and  the  printing-press — a 
treaty  to  be  ratified  by  millions  of  good  people  if  we  rightly  fashion  it ; 
a  treaty  promising  that  we  will  help  each  other  in  this  work  of  trying 
to  illuminate  and  felicitate  the  world — we  by  voice,  you  by  pen  ;  we 
by  speaking  only  that  which  is  worth  printing,  you  by  printing  only 
that  which  is  fit  to  speak.  You  help  us,  we  will  help  you.  Side  by 
side  be  these  two  potent  agencies  until  the  Judgment  Day,  when  we 


J  O  UKNALISM  AND  E  VANGELISM.  2 1 3 

must  both  be  scrutinized  for  our  work,  healthful  or  blasting.  The 
two  worst  off  men  in  that  day  will  be  the  minister  of  religion  and  the 
editor,  if  they  have  wasted  their  opportunities. 

A  NEW  TESTAMENT    REPORTER. 

That  Providence  intends  the  profession  of  reporters  to  have  a 
mighty  share  of  the  world's  redemption  is  suggested  by  the  fact  that 
Paul  and  Christ  took  a  reporter  along  with  them,  and  he  reported 
their  addresses  and  acts.  Luke  was  a  reporter,  and  he  wrote  not 
only  the  book  of  Luke,  but  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  without  that 
reporter's  work  we  would  have  known  nothing  of  the  Pentecost,  and 
nothing  of  Stephen's  martyrdom,  and  nothing  of  Tabitha's  resurrec- 
tion, and  nothing  of  the  jailing  and  unjailing  of  Paul  and  Silas,  and 
nothing  of  the  shipwreck  at  Melita.  Strike  out  the  reporter's  work 
from  the  Bible  and  you  kill  a  large  part  of  the  New  Testament.  It 
makes  me  think  that  in  the  future  of  the  kingdom  of  God  the  reporters 
are  to  bear  a  mighty  part. 

And  the  men  of  that  profession  are  to  come  in  a  body  through- 
out the  country.  I  know  hundreds  of  them,  and  a  more  congenial 
and  highly  educated  class  of  men  it  would  be  hard  to  find  ;  and, 
though  the  tendency  of  their  profession  may  be  toward  skepticism,  an 
organized,  common-sense  invitation  would  fetch  them  to  the  front  oi 
all  Christian  endeavor.  Men  of  the  pencil  and  pen,  in  all  departments, 
you  need  the  help  of  the  Christian  religion.  In  the  days  when  people 
want  to  get  their  newspapers  at  three  cents,  and  are  hoping  for  the 
time  when  they  can  get  them  for  one  cent,  and,  as  a  consequence,  the 
attaches  of  the  printing-press  are  by  the  thousands  ground  under  the 
cylinders,  you  want  God  to  take  care  of  you  and  your  families.  Some 
of  your  best  work  is  as  unappreciated  as  was  Milton's  "  Paradise 
Lost,"  for  which  the  author  received  twenty-five  dollars. 

O  men  of  the  pencil  and  pen,  amid  your  unappreciated  work  you 
need  encouragement,  and  you  can  have  it.  Printers  of  all  Christen- 
dom, editors,  reporters,  compositors,  pressmen,  publishers,  and  readers 
of  that  which  is  printed,  resolve  that  you  will  not  write,  set  up,  edit, 
issue,  or  read  anything  that  debases  body,  mind,  or  soul.  In  the  name 
of  God,  by  the  laying  on  of  the  hands  of  faith  and  prayer,  ordain  the 
printing-press  for  righteousness  and  liberty  and  salvation.  Let 
all  of  us  who  have  some  influence  that  will  help  in  the  right  direction 


2i4  JOURNALISM  AND  EVANGELISM. 

put  our  hands   to   the  work,  imploring  God  to   hasten  the   consum- 
mation. 

Are  you  all  ready  for  the  signing  of  the  contract,  the  league,  the 
solemn  treaty  proposed  between  Journalism  and  Evangelism?     Let  it 
be  a  Christian    marriage  of  the  pulpit   and  the    printing-press.     The 
ordination  of  the  latter  on  my  head,  the  pen  of  the  latter  in  my  hand,  j 
it  is  appropriate  that  /  should  publish  the  banns  of  such  a  marriage.  ' 
Let  them  from  this  day  be  one  in  the  magnificent  work  of  the  world's 
redemption  ! 


THE  CLOUDS  HIS  CHARIOT 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


BRUTES  are  constructed  so  as  to  look  down.  Those  earthty 
creatures  that  have  wings  when  they  rise  from  the  earth,  still 
look  down — the  eagle  searching  for  mice  in  the  grass,  the  raven 
for  carcasses  in  the  field.  Man  alone  is  made  to  look  up.  To  induce 
him  to  look  up,  God  makes  the  sky  a  picture-gallery,  a  Dusseldorf,  a 
Louvre,  a  Luxemburg,  a  Vatican  that  eclipses  all  that  German  or 
French  or  Italian  art  has  ever  accomplished.  But  God  has  failed  so  far  to 
attract  the  attention  of  most  of  us  by  the  scenery  of  the  sky.  We  go 
into  raptures  over  flowers  in  the  soil,  but  have  little  or  no  appreciation 
for  the  "  morning  glories  "  that  bloom  on  the  walls  of  the  sky  at  sun- 
lise,  or  the  dahlias  in  the  clouds  at  sunset.  We  are  in  ecstasies  over 
I  Gobelin  tapestry,  or  a  bridal  veil  of  rare  fabric,  or  a  snow-bank  of 
txquisite  curve,  but  see  not  at  all,  or  see  without  emotion,  the  bridal 
reil  of  mist  that  covers  the  face  of  the  Catskills,  or  the  swaying  up- 
iolstery  around  the  couch  of  the  dying  day,  or  the  snow-banks  of 
rapor  piled  up  in  the  sky. 

SIGNIFICANCE   OF  THE   CLOUDS. 

Let  us  lift  our  chins  three  or  four  inches,  and  open  the  two  tele* 
copes  which  under  the  forehead  are  put  on  swivels  easily  turned 
ipward,  and  we  will  see  that  the  clouds  are  not  merely  uninteresting 
igns  of  wet  or  dry  weather,  but  that  they  are  embroidered  canopies 
>f  shade,  that  they  are  the  conservatories  of  the  sky,  that  they  are 
hrones  of  pomp,  that  they  are  crystalline  bars,  that  they  are  paintings 
n  water-color,  that  they  are  the  angels  of  the  mist,  that  they  are  great 
athedrals  of  light,  with  broad  aisles  for  angelic  feet  to  walk  through 
.nd  to  bow  at  altars  of  amber  and  alabaster,  that  they  are  the  mothers 
f  the  dew,  that  they  are  ladders  of  ascending  and  descending  glories-—- 


9i 6  THE  CLOUDS  HIS  CHARIOT. 

Cotopaxis  of  belching  flame,  Niagaras  of  color — that  they  are  the 
masterpieces  of  the  Lord  God  Almighty.  The  clouds  are  a  favorite 
Bible  simile,  and  the  sacred  writers  have  made  much  use  of  them.  After 
the  deluge,  God  hung  on  the  clouds  in  concentric  bands  the  colors  of 
the  spectrum,  saying,  "I  do  set  my  bow  in  the  clouds."  As  a  mountain 
is  sometimes  entirely  hidden  by  vapors,  so,  says  God,  '  I  have  blotted 
out  as  a  thick  cloud  thy  transgressions."  David  measured  the  Divine 
goodness  and  found  it  so  high  that  he  thus  apostrophized  it :  "Thy 
faithfulness  reacheth  unto  the  clouds."  As  sometimes  there  are  thou- 
sands of  fleeces  of  vapor  scurrying  across  the  sky,  so,  says  Isaiah,  will 
be  the  converts  in  the  millennium,  "as  clouds  and  as  doves."  As  in  th-: 
wet  season  no  sooner  does  the  sky  clear  than  there  comes  another  ob- 
scuration, so,  says  Solomon,  one  ache  or  ailment  of  old  folks  has  no 
sooner  gone  than  another  comes,  "as  clouds  return  after  the  rain." 
A  column  of  illuminated  clouds  led  the  Israelites  through  the  wilder- 
ness. In  the  book  of  Job,  Elihu,  watching  the  clouds,  could  not 
understand  why  they  did  not  all  fall  or  why  they  did  not  all  roll  together, 
the  laws  of  evaporation  and  condensation  not  being  then  understood,  and 
he  cried  out,  "  Dost  thou  know  the  balancing  of  the  clouds  ?"  The 
clouds  are  God's  equipage,  and  their  whirling  masses  are  the  wheels, 
and  the  tongue  of  the  cloud  is  the  pole  of  the  celestial  vehicle,  and  the 
winds  are  the  harnessed  steeds,  and  God  is  the  royal  occupant  and 
driver,  "  who  maketh  the  clouds  his  chariot." 

ROYAL   EQUIPAGE. 

The  chariot  of  old  was  sometimes  a  sculptured  brilliancy  made  of 
ivory,  sometimes  of  solid  silver,  and  rolled  on  two  wheels  which  were 
fastened  to  the  axle  by  stout  pins,  and  the  awful  defeat  of  CEnomaus 
by  Pelops  was  caused  by  the  fact  that  a  traitorous  charioteer  had  in- 
serted a  linchpin  of  wax  instead  of  the  linchpin  of  iron.  All  the  six 
hundred  chariots  of  Pharaoh  lost  their  linchpins  in  the  Red  Sea,  for 
the  Bible  says,  "The  Lord  took  off  their  wheels."  Look  at  the  long 
flash  of  Solomon's  fourteen  hundred  chariots  of  the  Philistines  ! 

If  you  have  ever  visited  the  buildings  where  kings  or  queens  keep 
their  coaches  of  state,  as  I  have,  you  know  that  kings  and  queens  have 
a  great  variety  of  turnouts.  The  keeper  will  tell  you  :  "  This  is  the 
State  carriage  and  is  used  only  on  State  occasions."  "  This  is  the 
coronation  carriage  and  in  it  the  king  rode  on  the  day  he  took  the 


THE  CL  O  UDS  HIS  CHARIO  T.  217 

throne."  "  In  this  the  queen  went  to  open  Parliament."  "This  is  the 
carriage  in  which  the  czar  and  sultan  rode  on  the  occasion  of  their 
visit."  All  costly  and  tessellated  and  rich  and  emblazoned  they  are,  and 
when  the  driver  takes  the  reins  of  the  ten  white  horses  in  his  hands, 
and,  amid  mounted  troops  and  bands  in  full  force  sounding  the  national 
air,  the  splendor  starts  and  rolls  on  under  arches  entwined  with  ban- 
ners, and  amid  the  huzzas  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people,  the 
scene  is  memorable.  But  the  inspired  Psalmist  puts  all  such  occasions 
into  insignificance,  as  he  represents  the  King  of  the  universe  coming 
to  the  door  of  his  palace,  while  the  gilded  vapors  of  the  heavens  roll 
up  to  his  feet,  and  He,  stepping  in  and  taking  the  reins  of  the  gallop- 
ing winds  in  his  hand,  starts  in  triumphal  ride  over  the  arches  of 
sapphire,  and  over  the  atmospheric  highways  of  opal  and  chrysolite, 
"the  clouds  his  chariot." 

Do  not  think  that  God  belittles  Himself  when  He  takes  such  a 
conveyance.  Do  you  know  that  the  clouds  are  among  the  most  won- 
drous and  majestic  things  in  the  whole  universe  ?  Do  you  know  that 
they  are  flying  lakes  and  rivers  and  oceans  ?  God  waved  his  hand 
over  them  and  said,  "  Come  up  higher,"  and  they  obeyed  the  mandate. 
Yonder  cloud,  instead  of  being,  as  it  seems,  a  small  gathering  a  few 
yards  wide  and  high,  is  really  seven  or  eight  miles  across,  and  is  a 
mountain — from  its  base  to  its  top  fifteen  thousand  feet,  eighteen  thou- 
sand feet,  twenty  thousand  feet,  and  cut  through  with  ravines  five 
thousand  feet  deep.  No,  David  did  not  make  an  unworthy  representa- 
tion of  God  when  he  spoke  of  the  clouds  as  his  chariot.  But,  as  I 
suggested  in  the  case  of  an  earthly  king,  He  has  his  morning  cloud- 
chariot,  and  his  evening  cloud-chariot — the  cloud-chariot  in  which  He 
rode  to  Sinai  to  open  the  law,  and  the  cloud-chariot  in  which  He  rode 
down  to  Tabor  to  honor  the  gospel,  and  the  cloud-chariot  in  which  He 
will  come  to  the  judgment. 

GOD'S    MORNING    CHARIOT. 

When  He  rides  in  his  morning  chariot  at  this  season,  about  six 
o  clock,  He  puts  golden  coronets  on  the  domes  of  cities,  and  out  of  the 
dew  makes  a  diamond  ring  for  the  finger  of  every  grass  blade,  and  bids 
good  cheer  to  invalids  who  in  the  night  have  said,  "Would  God  it  were 
morning  !"  From  this  morning  chariot  He  distributes  light — light  for  the 
earth  and  light  for  the  heavens,  light  for  the  earth  and  light  for  the  sea, 


at 8  THE  CLOUDS  HIS  CHARIOT. 

great  bars  of  it,  great  wreaths  of  it,  great  columns  of  it,  a  world  full  of  it. 
Hail  him  in  worship  every  morning.  He  drives  out  his  chariot  of  morn- 
ing-cloud and  cries  with  David  :  "  My  voice  shalt  thou  hear  in  the  morn- 
ing: in  the  morning  will  I  direct  my  prayer  unto  Thee  and  look  up."  I 
rejoice  in  these  Scripture  ejaculations  :  "Joy  cometh  in  the  morning." 
"My  soul  waiteth  for  Thee  more  than  they  that  watch  in  the  morning." 
"If  I  take  the  wing  of  the. morning."  "The  eyelids  of  the  morning." 
"  The  morning  cometh."  "  Who  is  she  that  looketh  forth  in  the  morn- 
ing?" "  His  going  forth  is  prepared  as  the  morning."  "  As  the  morn- 
ing spread  on  the  mountains."  "That  thou  wouldst  visit  him  every 
morning."  What  a  mighty  thing  the  King  throws  from  his  chariot 
when  He  throws  us  morning  ! 

GOD'S    EVENING    CHARIOT. 

He  has  also  his  evening  cloud-chariot.  It  is  made  out  of  the  saf- 
fron and  the  gold  and  the  purple  and  the  vermilion  and  the  upshot 
flame  of  the  sunset.  That  is  the  place  where  the  splendors  of  the  day 
have  marched,  hciving  ended  the  procession,  thrown  down  the  torches, 
and  set  the  heavens  on  fire.  That  is  the  only  hour  of  the  day  when  the 
atmosphere  is  clear  enough  to  let  us  see  the  walls  of  the  heavenly  city, 
with  its  twelve  manner  of  precious  stones,  from  the  foundation  of  jas- 
per to  the  middle  strata  of  sardius  and  on  up  to  the  coping  of  amethyst. 
At  that  hour,  without  any  of  Elisha's  supernatural  vision,  we  see  horses 
of  fire  and  chariots  of  fire  and  banners  of  fire  and  ships  of  fire  and  cities 
of  fire  and  seas  of  fire,  and  it  seems  as  if  the  last  conflagration  had  begun 
and  there  was  a  world  on  fire!  When  God  makes  these  clouds  his 
chariots,  let  us  all  kneel.  Another  day  past.  What  have  we  done  with 
it?  Another  day  is  done  and  this  is  its  catafalque.  Now  is  the  time  for 
what  David  called  the  "evening  sacrifice,"  or  Daniel  called  the 
"  evening  oblation."  Oh,  what  a  chariot  made  out  of  evening-cloud  ! 
Have  you  hung  over  the  taffrail  on  the  ocean  ship  and  seen  this  cloudy 
vehicle  roll  over  the  pavements  of  a  calm  summer  sea,  the  wheels 
dripping  with  magnificence  ?  Have  you  from  the  top  of  Ben  Lomond 
or  the  Cordilleras  or  the  Berkshire  Hills  seen  the  day  pillowed  for  the 
night,  and  yet  had  no  aspiration  of  praise  or  homage  ?  Oh,  what  a 
rich  God  we  have  that  He  can  put  on  one  evening  sky  pictures  that 
excel  Michael  Angelo's  "Last  Judgment"  and  Ghirlandaio  s  "  Adora- 
tion of  the  Magi "  and  whole  galleries  of  Madonnas,  and  for  only 


THE  CL  O  UDS  HIS  CHARIO  T.  219 

an  hour  and  then  put  away,  and  the  next  evening  put  on  the  same  sky 
something  that  excels  all  that  the  Raphaels  and  the  Titians  and  the 
Rembrandts  and  the  Corregios  and  the  Leonardo  de  Vincis  ever  ex- 
ecuted, and  then  draw  a  curtain  of  mist  over  them  never  again  to  be 
exhibited.  How  rich  God  must  be  to  have  a  new  chariot  of  clouds 
every  morning ! 

THE    BLACK    CHARIOT   OF   WRATH. 

But  the  Bible  tells  us  that  our  King  has  also  a  black  chariot. 
"  Clouds  and  darkness,"  we  are  told,  "are  all  around  about  him."  That 
chariot  is  cloven  out  of  night  and  that  night  is  trouble.  When  He  rides 
in  that  black  chariot  pestilence  and  earthquake  and  hurricane  and  fam- 
ine and  woe  attend  Him.  Then  let  the  earth  tremble.  Then  let  nations 
pray.  Again  and  again  has  He  ridden  forth  in  that  black  chariot  of 
clouds,  across  England,  France,  Italy,  Russia,  America,  and  over  all 
nations.  That  which  men  took  to  be  the  cannonading  at  Sebastopol, 
at  Sedan,  at  Gettysburg,  at  Tel-el- Kebir,  at  Bunker  Hill,  was  only  the 
rumbling  of  the  wheels  of  the  black  chariot  of  the  Almighty.  Aye,  it 
was  the  chariot  of  storm-cloud  armed  with  thunderbolts,  and  neither 
man  nor  angels  nor  devils  nor  earth  nor  hell  nor  heaven  could  resist 
it.  On  these  boulevards  of  blue  this  chariot  never  turns  out  for  any- 
thing. Aye,  «ao  one  else  drives  there.  Under  one  wheel  of  that  chariot 
Babylon  was  crushed  and  Baalbec  fell  dead  and  the  Roman  Empire 
was  prostrated  and  Atlantis — a  whole  continent  that  once  connected 
Europe  with  America — sank  so  far  out  of  sight  that  the  longest  anchor 
chain  of  ocean  steamer  cannot  touch  the  top  of  its  highest  mountains. 
The  throne  of  the  Caesars  was  less  than  a  pebble  under  the  right  wheel 
of  this  chariot,  and  the  Austrian  despotism  less  than  a  snowflake  under 
the  left  wheel.  And  over  destroyed  worlds  on  worlds  that  chariot  has 
rolled  without  a  jar  or  jolt. 

This  black  chariot  of  war-cloud  rolled  up  to  the  northwest  of 
Europe  in  1812,  and  four  hundred  thousand  men  marched  to  take 
Moscow,  but  that  chariot  of  clouds  rolled  back,  and  only  twenty-five 
thousand  out  of  the  four  hundred  thousand  troops  lived  to  return.  No 
great  snow-storm  like  that  ever  before  or  ever  since  has  visited  Russia. 
Aye,  the  chariot  of  the  Lord  is  irresistible. 

POWER   OF    PRAYER. 

There  is  only  one  thing  that  can  halt  or  turn  one  of  God's  chariots, 
and  that   is  prayer.     Again  and  again  has  it  stopped  it,  wheeled  it 


**>  THE  CLOUDS  HIS  CHARIOT. 

around,  and  the  chariot  of  black  clouds  under  that  sanctified  human 
breath  has  blossomed  into  such  brightness  and  color  that  men  and 
angels  had  to  veil  their  faces  from  its  brightness.  Mark  you,  the  ancient 


THE    TRANSLATION    OF    ELIJAH 

chariot  which  David  uses  as  a  symbol  had  only  two  wheels,  that  they 
might  turn  quickly,  two  wheels  taking  less  than  half  the  time 
to  turn  that  four  wheels  would  have  taken.  And  our  Lord's  chariot 


222  THE  CLOUDS  HIS  CHARIOT. 

has  only  two  wheels  ;  and  that  m^ans  instant  reversal,  and  instant  de- 
liverance, and  instant  help.  While  the  combined  forces  in  battle  array 
could  not  stop  his  black  chariot  a  second  or  diverge  it  an  inch,  the 
driver  of  this  chariot  says  :  "Call  upon  me  in  the  day  of  trouble  and 
I  will  deliver  thee."  "  While  they  are  yet  speaking  I  will  hear."  Two- 
wheeled  chariot — one  wheel  justice,  the  other  wheel  mercy.  Aye, 
they  are  swift  wheels.  A  cloud,  whether  it  belongs  to  the  cirrhus,  the 
clouds  which  float  the  highest,  or  belongs  to  the  stratus,  the  central 
region,  or  to  the  cumulus,  the  lowest  ranges,  seems  to  move  slowly 
along  the  sky,  if  it  moves  at  all.  But  many  clouds  go  at  a  speed  that 
would  make  a  limited  lightning-express  train  seem  lethargic,  so  swift  is 
the  chariot  of  our  God  ;  yea,  swifter  than  the  storm,  swifter  than  the 
light.  Yet  a  child  ten  years  old  has  been  known  to  reach  up,  and  with 
the  hand  of  prayer  take  the  courser  of  that  chariot  by  the  bit,  slow  it 
up,  or  stop  it,  or  turn  it  aside,  or  turn  it  back.  The  boy  Samuel  stopped 
it.  Elijah  stopped  it.  Hezekiah  stopped  it.  Daniel  stopped  it.  Joshua 
stopped  it.  Esther  stopped  it.  Ruth  stopped  it.  Hannah  stopped  it. 
Mary  stopped  it.  My  father  stopped  it.  My  mother  stopped  it.  My 
sister  stopped  it.  We  have  in  our  Sabbath-school  children  who  have 
again  and  again  stopped  it. 

THE    DIVINE    DRIVER. 

Notice  that  those  old-time  chariots  had  what  we  would  call  a  high 
dash-board  in  the  front,  but  were  open  behind.  And  the  king  would 
stand  at  the  dash-board  and  drive  with  his  own  hands.  And  I  am  glad 
that  He,  whose  chariot  the  clouds  are,  drives  Himself.  He  does  not 
let  the  natural  law  drive,  for  natural  law  is  deaf.  He  does  not  let  fate 
drive,  for  fate  is  merciless.  But  our  Father  King  drives  Himself,  and 
He  puts  his  loving  hand  on  the  reins  of  the  flying  coursers,  and  He 
has  a  loving  ear  open  to  the  cry  of  all  who  want  to  catch  his  attention. 
Oh,  I  am  so  glad  that  my  Father  drives,  and  never  drives  too  fast,  and 
never  drives  too  slow,  and  never  drives  off  the  precipice — that  He 
controls,  by  a  bit  that  never  breaks,  the  wildest  and  most  raging  cir- 
cumstances. I  heard  of  a  ship  captain  who  put  out  in  his  vessel  with 
a  large  number  of  passengers,  from  Buffalo  on  Lake  Erie,  very  early 
in  the  season  while  there  was  much  ice.  When  they  were  well  out  the 
captain  saw  with  horror  that  the  ice  was  closing  in  on  them  from  all 
sides,  and  he  saw  no  way  out  from  destruction  and  death.  He  called 


THE   DEATH   OF   ST.    STEPHEN 


223 


224 


THE  CLOUDS  HIS  CHARIOT.  225 

into  the  cabin  the  passengers  and  all  the  crew  that  could  be  spared 
from  their  posts,  and  told  them  the  ship  must  be  lost  unless  God  inter- 
posed, and  though  he  was  not  a  Christian  man,  he  said,  "  Let  us  pray  "; 
and  they  all  knelt,  asking  God  to  come  to  their  deliverance.  They 
went  back  to  the  deck  and  the  man  at  the  wheel  shouted,  "  All  is 
right,  captain,  it's  blowing  nor'  by  nor'-west  now."  While  the  prayer 
was  going  on  in  the  cabin  the  wind  had  changed  and  blown  the  ice  OL  t 
of  the  way.  The  mate  asked,  "Shall  I  put  on  more  sail,  cap'n  ?  " 
''No,"  responded  the  captain,  "don't  touch  her.  Some  one  else  is 
managing  this  ship." 

O  men  and  women,  shut  in  on  all  sides  with  icy  troubles  and 
misfortunes,  in  earnest  prayer  put  all  your  affairs  in  the  hands  of  God. 
You  will  come  out  all  right.  Some  one  else  is  managing  the  ship. 
It  did  not  merely  happen  that  when  Leyden  was  besieged,  and  the 
Duke  of  Alva  felt  sure  of  his  triumph,  suddenly  the  wind  turned,  and 
the  swollen  waters  compelled  him  to  stop  the  siege,  and  the  city  was 
saved.  God  that  night  drove  along  the  coast  of  the  Netherlands  in  a 
black  chariot  of  storm-cloud.  It  did  not  merely  happen  that  Luther 
rose  from  the  place  where  he  was  sitting  just  in  time  to  keep  from  being 
crushed  by  a  stone  which  that  instant  fell  on  the  very  spot.  Had  he 
stopped,  where  would  have  been  the  Reformation  ?  It  did  not  merely 
happen  that  Columbus  was  saved  from  drowning  by  an  oar  that  was 
floating  on  the  water.  Otherwise,  who  would  have  unveiled  America  ? 
It  did  not  merely  happen  that  when  George  Washington  was  in  Brook- 
lyn, a  great  cloud  settled  down  over  all  the  place  where  the  city  now 
stands,  over  all  the  western  end  of  Long  Island,  and  under  that  fog  he 
and  his  army  escaped  from  the  clutches  of  Generals  Howe  and  Clinton. 
In  a  chariot  of  mist  and  cloud  the  God  of  American  Independence  rode 
along  there.  On  that  pillow  of  consolation  I  put  down  my  head  to 
sleep  at  night.  On  that  solid  foundation  I  build  when  I  see  this  nation 
in  political  paroxysm  every  four  years,  not  because  they  care  two  center 
whether  it  is  high  tariff  or  low  tariff  or  no  tariff  at  all,  but  only  whether 
the  Democrats  or  the  Republicans  shall  have  the  salaried  offices.  Yea, 
when  European  nations  are  holding  their  breath,  wondering  whether 
Russia  or  Germany  will  launch  a  war  that  will  incarnadine  a  continent, 
1  fall  back  on  the  faith  that  my  Father  holds  the  reins  of  human  affairs. 
Yes,  I  cast  this  as  an  anchor,  and  plant  this  as  a  column  of  strength, 
and  lift  this  as  a  telescope,  and  build  this  as  a  fortress,  and  propose 

15 


tz6  THE  CLOUDS  HIS  C!!A!:!dT. 

without  any  perturbation  to  launch  upon  an  unknown  future,  trium 
phant  in  the  fact  that  my  Father  drives.  Yes,  He  drives  very  near. 
I  know  that  many  of  the  clouds  you  see  in  summer  are  far  off,  the  base 
of  some  of  them  five  miles  above  the  earth.  High  on  the  highest 
peaks  of  the  Andes,  travelers  have  seen  clouds  far  higher  than  where 
they  were  standing.  Gay  Lussac,  after  he  had  risen  in  a  balloon  twenty- 
three  thousand  feet,  saw  clouds  still  above  him. 

THREE    GRAND    OCCASIONS. 

But  there  are  clouds  which  touch  the  earth  and  discharge  their 
rain,  and  though  the  clouds  out  of  which  God's  chariot  is  made  may 
sometimes  be  far  away,  often  they  are  close  by — they  touch  our 
shoulders,  and  they  touch  our  homes,  and  they  touch  us  all  over.  I 
have  heard  of  two  different  rides  the  Lord  took  in  two  different  chariots 
of  clouds,  and  another  that  He  will  take.  One  day,  in  a  chariot  of 
clouds  that  was  a  mingling  of  fog  and  smoke  and  fire,  God  drove  down 
to  the  top  of  a  terrible  crag  fifteen  hundred  feet  high,  now  called  Jebel- 
Musa,  then  called  Mount  Sinai,  and  He  stepped  out  of  his  chariot 
among  the  shelvings  of  the  rocks.  The  mountains  shook  as  with  ague, 
and  there  were  ten  volleys  of  thunder,  each  of  the  ten  emphasizing  a 
tremendous  "Thou  shalt,"  or  "Thou  shalt  not."  Then  the  Lord  re- 
sumed his  chariot  of  cloud  and  drove  up  the  hills  of  Heaven.  They 
were  dark,  portentous  clouds  that  made  the  chariot  at  the  giving  of  the 
law.  But  one  day  He  took  another  ride,  and  this  time  down  to  Mount 
Tabor.  The  clouds  out  of  which  his  chariot  was  made  were  bright 
clouds,  roseate  clouds,  illumined  clouds,  and  music  rained  from  them, 
and  the  music  was  a  mingling  of  carol  and  chant  and  triumphal  march  : 
"This  is  my  beloved  Son,  with  whom  I  am  well  pleased." 

It  is  in  the  mirror  of  revelation,  and  with  the  eye  of  faith,  that  we 
see  the  third  great  ride  of  the  Almighty.  On  either  side  of  the  central 
I  chariot  apostles  and  martyrs  who  in  the  same  or  approximate  cen- 
turies suffered  for  Him — Paul,  Stephen,  and  Ignatius  and  Polycarp 
and  Justin  Martyr,  and  multitudes  who  went  up  in  the  chariot  of  fire- 
are  now  coming  in  a  chariot  of  cloud,  while  in  the  rear  of  the  central 
chariot  may  be  seen  the  multitudes  of  later  days  and  of  our  own  time 
who  have  tried  to  serve  the  Lord — ourselves,  I  hope,  among  them. 
"  Behold  the  Lord  comes  with  ten  thousand  of  his  saints."  Yes,  al- 
though we  are  unworthy  of  such  companionship,  we  want  to  come  with 


THE  CLOUDS  HIS  CHARIOT.  427 

Him  on  that  day  to  see  the  last  of  this  old  world  which  was  our  resi- 
dence. Coming  through  the  skies,  myriads  of  chariots  rolling  on, 
rolling  down.  By  that  time  how  changed  this  world  will  be  !  Its  des- 
erts all  flowers,  its  rocks  all  mossed  and  lichened,  its  poor-houses  all 
palaces,  its  sorrows  all  joys,  its  sins  all  virtues,  and  in  the  same  pasture- 
field  lion  and  calf,  and  on  the  same  perch  hawk  and  dove.  Now  all  the 
chariots  of  clouds  strike  the  earth,  filling  all  the  valleys,  covering  all 
the  mountain  sides,  halting  over  all  the  cemeteries  and  graveyards,  and 
over  the  waters  deep  where  the  dead  sleep  in  coral  sarcophagi.  A  loud 
blast  of  the  resurrection  trumpet  is  given,  and  the  bodies  of  the  dead 
rise  and  join  the  spirits  from  which  they  have  long  been  separated. 
Then  Christ,  our  King,  rising  in  the  center  chariot  of  cloud,  with  his 
scarred  hands  waves  the  signal,  and  the  chariots  wheel  and  come  into 
line  for  the  glorious  ascent.  Drive  on  !  Drive  up  !  Chariots  of  clouds 
ahead  of  the  King,  chariots  of  clouds  on  either  side  of  the  King,  chari- 
ots of  clouds  following  the  King.  Upward  past  starry  hosts  and 
through  immensities,  and  across  infinitudes,  higher,  higher,  higher,  unto 
the  gates,  the  shining  gates  !  Lift  up  your  heads,  ye  everlasting  gates, 
for  Him  who  maketh  the  clouds  his  chariot,  and  who  through  conde 
scending  and  uplifting  grace  invites  us  to  mount  and  ride  with  Him! 


SIN'S  ADVANCE  GUARDS. 


THER.E  is  no  more  absorbing  question  to-day  for  every  man  and 
every  patriot  than   this  :     "  Is  there  anything  we  can  do  to  stem 
the  awful  torrent  of  pernicious  literature  ?    Are  we  to  make  our 
minds  the  receptacle  for  all  that  bad  people  choose  to  write  ?     Are  we 
to  stoop  down,   and  drink  out  of  the  trough  which  wickedness  has 
filled  ?     Are  we  to  mire  in  iniquity,  or  to  chase  will-o'-the-wisps  across 
swamps   of  death,    when  God  invites   us  into  the  blooming  gardens 
of  his  love  ?     Is  there  anything  you  can  do  ?     Is  there  anything  that 
/  can  do   to  help  stem  this  mighty  torrent  of  pernicious  literature  ? 
Yes. 

The  first  thing  for  us  all  to  do  is  to  keep  ourselves  and  our  lam 
ilies  aloof  from  iniquitous  books  and  newspapers.  Standing,  as  we  do, 
chin  deep  in  fictitious  literature,  the  question  is  every  day  asked,  "  Is 
it  right  to  read  novels  ?"  Well,  I  have  to  say  that  there  are  good 
novels,  honest  novels,  Christian  novels,  useful  novels,  novels  that  make 
the  heart  purer  and  the  life  better.  The  world  can  never  pay  its  debt 
of  obligation  to  Hawthorne,  and  Mackenzie,  and  scores  of  others  who 
in  times  past  have  written  healthful  novels.  The  follies  of  the  world 
were  never  better  excoriated  than  in  the  books  of  Miss  Edgeworth. 
The  memories  of  the  past  were  never  better  embalmed  than  in  the 
writings  of  Walter  Scott.  No  healthier  books  have  been  written  than 
those  by  Fenimore  Cooper,  his  novels  full  of  the  breath  of  the  sea 
weed  and  the  air  of  the  American  forests.  Kingsley  did  a  grand  work 
in  his  books  by  smiting  morbidity,  and  giving  us  the  poetry  of  strong 
muscles  and  good  health  and  fresh  air.  Thackeray  accomplished  a 
good  work  when  he  caricatured  pretenders  to  gentility  and  high  blood. 
The  writings  of  Charles  Dickens  are  an  everlasting  protest  against  in- 
justice, and  a  plea  for  the  poor. 
(228) 


SIN' S  AD  VANCE  G  UARDS.  229 

I  take  all  the  histories,  false  and  true  ;  all  the  romances,  beautiful 
and  hideous  ;  all  the  epilogues,  commentaries,  catalogues  ;  family,  city, 
state,  and  national  libraries  ;  and  I  heave  them  into  one  great  pyramid. 
I  bring  to  bear  upon  these  some  grand  and  glorious  and  infallible 
Christian  principles,  so  that  if  you  ask  me  to-day,  "  Is  there  anything 
we  can  do  to  stem  this  tide  ?"  I  answer,  "  Yes,  very  much,  every  way." 

First,  let  us  stand  aloof  from  all  books  that  give  false  pictures  of 
human  life.  Life  is  neither  a  tragedy  nor  a  farce.  Men  are  not  all 
either  knaves  or  heroes.  Women  are  neither  angels  nor  furies.  If 
we  should  judge,  however,  from  much  of  the  literature  of  this  day, 
we  would  come  to  the  idea  that  life  is  a  fitful,  fantastic,  and  extravagant 
thing,  instead  of  a  practical  and  useful  thing.  After  people  have  been 
reading  late  at  night  romances  which  glorify  iniquity  and  present 
knavery  in  most  attractive  form,  how  poorly  prepared  are  they  for  the 
work  of  life.  That  man  who  is  an  indiscriminate  novel-reader  is  unfit 
for  the  duties  of  the  store,  the  shop,  the  factory.  He  will  be  looking 
for  his  heroine  in  the  tin-shop,  in  the  grocery-store,  in  the  banking- 
house,  and  will  not  find  her. 

ONE  WOMAN'S  WORK. 
Years  aox>  there  came  forth  a  French  authoress  under  the  assumed 

o 

name  of  George  Sand.  She  smoked  cigars  and  wore  masculine  ap- 
parel. She  wrote  with  a  style  ardent,  eloquent,  graphic  in  its  pictures, 
horrible  in  its  suggestions,  damnable  in  its  results,  and  sending  forth 
into  the  libraries  and  the  homes  of  the  world  an  influence  which  has  not 
yet  relaxed  ;  and  I  want  to  tell  you  that  most  of  the  infamous  stories 
we  have  got  from  Paris  in  the  last  five  or  ten  years  are  copies  of  that 
woman's  iniquity.  These  books  are  sold  by  Christian  booksellers. 
Under  the  nostrils  of  your  cities  there  is  to-day  a  fetid,  reeking,  un- 
washed literature,  enough  to  poison  all  the  fountains  of  virtue,  and 
smite  your  sons  and  daughters  as  with  the  wings  of  a  destroying 
angel,  and  it  is  high  time  that  the  ministers  of  religion  and  all  reformers 
should  band  together  and  marshal  an  army  of  righteousness  armed  to 
the  teeth  to  fight  back  this  moral  calamity. 

What  do  you  make  of  the  fact  that  more  than  fifty  per  cent,  of 
the  criminals  in  the  jails  and  penitentiaries  of  this  country  are  under 
twenty-one  years  of  age  ;  many  of  them  under  eighteen,  many  under 
sixteen,  many  under  fifteen  ?  You  go  along  the  corridors  of  the 


zjo  SWS  ADVANCE  GUARDS. 

prisons,  and  you  will  find  that  nine  out  of  ten  came  there  from  reading 
bad  books  or  newspapers.  The  men  will  tell  you  so  ;  the  women  will 
tell  you  so.  Is  not  that  a  fact  worthy  the  consideration  of  those  whose 
families  are  dear  to  them  ? 

PERNICIOUS    PICTORIALS. 

I  must,  in  this  connection,  call  to  your  mind  the  iniquitous  pic- 
torials of  our  time.  For  good  pictures  I  have  great  admiration.  But. 
you  know  our  cities  are  to-day  cursed  with  evil  pictorials.  These 
death-warrants  are  on  every  street.  A  young  man  purchases  perhaps 
one  copy,  and  he  purchases  with  it  his  eternal  discomfiture.  That  one 
bad  picture  poisons  one  soul,  that  soul  poisons  fifty  souls,  the  fifty 
despoil  a  hundred,  the  hundred  a  thousand,  the  thousand  a  million, 
and  the  million  other  millions,  until  it  will  take  the  measuring  line  of 
eternity  to  tell  the  height,  and  the  depth,  and  the  ghastliness  of  the 
great  undoing.  A  young  man  buys  one  copy,  and  he  unrolls  it  amid 
roaring  companions  ;  but  long  after  that  paper  is  gone  the  evil  will  be 
seen  in  the  blasted  imaginations  of  those  who  looked  at  it.  Every 
night  the  Queen  of  Death  holds  a  banquet,  and  these  evil  pictorials  are 
the  printed  invitations  to  the  guests. 

Alas  !  that  the  fair  brow  of  American  art  should  be  blotched  with 
that  plague-spot.  O  young  man,  buy  none  of  that  moral  strychnine  ; 
do  not  pick  up  a  nest  of  coiled  adders  for  your  pocket.  Your  heart 
will  be  more  pure  than  your  eye.  A  man  is  never  better  than  the 
picture  he  loves  to  look  at.  Show  me  what  style  of  pictures  a  man 
buys,  and  I  will  tell  you  his  character.  Out  of  a  thousand  times  I  will 
not  make  one  failure  in  judgment.  When  Satan  fails  to  get  a  man  to 
read  a  bad  book,  he  sometimes  captures  him  by  getting  him  to  look  at 
a  bad  picture.  When  Satan  goes  a-fishing,  he  does  not  care  whether 
it  is  a  long  line  or  a  short  line,  if  he  only  hauls  in  his  victim. 

Remember  that  one  column  of  good  reading  may  save  a  soul — 
that  one  column  of  bad  reading  may  destroy  a  soul.  Examine  your 
libraries!  After  you  have  got  through  your  libraries,  examine  the 
stand  where  the  pictorials  and  newspapers  are ;  and  if  you  find  any- 
thing there  that  cannot  stand  the  test  of  the  judgment-day,  do  not 
give  it  to  others — that  would  despoil  them  ;  do  not  sell  it — that  would 
be  receiving  the  price  of  blood  ;  but  kindle  a  fire  on  your  kitchen- 
hearth  or  in  your  back-yard,  and  put  the  poison  in,  and  keep  stirring 


ADVANCE  GUARDS.  251 

the  blaze  until  everything  has  gone  to  ashes,  from  preface  to  ap- 
pendix. 

Crowd  your  minds  with  good  books,  and  there  will  be  no  room  for 
the  bad.  When  Thomas  Chalmers  was  riding  beside  a  stage-driver, 
and  the  horses  were  going  beautifully,  the  stage-driver  drew  his  long 
lash  and  struck  the  ear  of  the  leader.  It  seemed  to  Thomas  Chalmers 
a  great  cruelty,  and  he  said,  "Why  did  you  strike  that  horse  ;  he  is 
going  splendidly?  "Ah!"  said  the  stage-driver,  "do  you  see  that 
frightful  object  along  the  road  ?  I  never  in  the  world  would  have  got 
that  horse  along  there  if  I  hadn't  given  him  something  else  to  think 
of!"  Thomas  Chalmers  went  home  and  wrote  his  immortal  sermon, 
"  The  Expulsive  Power  of  a  New  Affection." 

While  you  have  looked  after  yourselves,  and  looked  after  your 
families,  I  want  you  to  join  this  great  army  enlisted  against  pernicious 
literature.  We  are  going  to  triumph.  I  feel  to  the  tips  of  my  fingers 
and  in  the  depths  of  my  soul  the  assurance  that  righteousness  is  going 
to  triumph  over  all  iniquity.  "  If  God  be  with  us,  who  can  be  against 
us?" 

PROGRESS   OF    INFIDELITY. 

Bad  books  are  not  only  enlisted  in  the  service  of  crime,  but  they 
also  aid  the  progress  of  infidelity  and  modern  materialism.  It  is  to 
this  subject  that  we  must  now  turn  our  attention.  If  an  object  be 
lifted  to  a  certain  point  and  not  fastened  there,  and  the  lifting  power 
be  withdrawn,  how  long  will  it  be  before  that  object  will  fall  down  to  the 
point  from  which  it  started  ?  It  will  assuredly  fall,  and  will  go  still 
further  than  the  point  from  which  it  started.  Christianity  has  lifted 
women  up  from  the  very  depths  of  degradation  almost  to  the  skies.  If 
that  lifting  power  be  withdrawn,  she  will  fall  clear  back  to  the  depth 
from  which  she  was  resurrected  ;  but  not  lower,  for  there  is  no  lower 
depth.  . 

If  infidelity  triumph,  and  Christianity  be  overthrown,  it  means  the 
demoralization  of  society.  The  one  idea  in  the  Bible  that  atheists  and 
infidels  most  hate,  is  the  idea  of  retribution.  Take  away  the  idea  of 
retribution  and  punishment  from  society,  and  it  will  begin  very  soon  to 
disintegrate  ;  and  take  away  from  the  minds  of  men  the  fear  of  hell, 
and  there  are  a  great  many  of  them  who  would  very  soon  turn  this 
world  into  a  hell, 


232  SWS  ADVANCE  GUARDS. 

The  mightiest  restraints  to-day  against  theft,  against  immorality, 
against  libertinism,  against  crime  of  all  sorts,  are  the  retributions  of 
eternity.  Men  know  that  they  can  escape  the  law,  but  down  in  the 
offender's  soul  there  is  the  realization  of  the  fact  that  he  cannot  escape 
God.  He  stands  at  the  end  of  the  road  of  profligacy,  and  He  will  not 
set  free  the  guilty.  Take  all  idea  of  retribution  and  punishment  out 
if  the  hearts  and  minds  of  men,  and  it  will  not  be  long  before  Brooklyn 
and  New  York  and  Boston  and  Charleston  and  Chicago  become 
Sodoms.  The  only  restraints  against  the  evil  passions  of  the  world 
to-day  are  Bible  restraints. 

Suppose  now  these  generals  of  Atheism  and  Infidelity  should  win 
the  victory,  and  suppose  they  should  marshal  a  great  army  made  up  of 
the  majority  of  the  world.  They  are  in  companies,  in  regiments,  in 
brigades — a  well-appointed  army.  Forward,  march  !  ye  host  of  infidels 
and  atheists,  banners  flying  before,  banners  flying  behind,  banners  in- 
scribed with  the  words,  "  No  God  !  No  Christ !  No  punishment !  No 
restraints  !  Down  with  the  Bible  !  Do  as  you  please  !"  Forward, 
march  !  ye  great  army  of  infidels  and  atheists. 

First  of  all  they  will  attack  the  churches.  Away  with  those  houses 
of  worship !  They  have  been  standing  there  too  long  deluding  the 
people  with  consolation  in  their  bereavements  and  sorrows.  All  those 
churches  ought  to  be  extirpated ;  they  have  done  so  much  to  relieve 
the  lost  and  bring  home  the  wandering,  and  they  have  so  long  held  up 
the  idea  of  eternal  rest  after  the  paroxysm  of  this  life  is  over.  Turn 
the  St.  Peters  and  St.  Pauls  and  the  temples  and  tabernacles  into  club- 
houses. Away  with  those  churches  ! 

A  thousand  voices  come  up  to  me  saying,  "  Do  you  really  think 
Infidelity  will  succeed?  Has  Christianity  received  its  death-blow? 
Will  the  Bible  become  obsolete?  " — Yes,  when  the  smoke  of  the  city 
chimney  arrests  and  destroys  the  noonday  sun.  Josephus  says  that 
about  the  time  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  the  sun  was  turned  into 
darkness  ;  but  in  truth  only  the  clouds  rolled  between  the  sun  and  the 
earth.  The  sun  went  right  on.  It  is  the  same  sun,  the  same  luminary 
as  when  at  the  beginning  it  shot  out  like  an  electric  spark  from  God's 
finger,  and  to-day  it  is  warming  the  nations,  and  gilding  the  sea,  and 
filling  the  earth  with  light.  The  same  old  sun,  not  at  all  worn  out, 
though  its  light  steps  one  hundred  and  ninety  thousand  miles  a  second, 
though  its  pulsations  are  four  hundred  and  fifty  trillion  undulations  in 


ADVANCE  GUARDS. 


233 


a  second  ;  the  same  sun,  with  its  beautiful  white  light  made  up  of  the 
violet  and  the  indigo  and  the  blue  and  the  green  and  the  red  and  the 
yellow  and  the  orange — the  seven  beautiful  colors  now  just  as  when 
the  solar  spectrum  first  divided  them. 


SKEPTICISM. 


To   our   consideration    of  modern   infidelity  we  may  add  some 
thoughts  about  its  advance  courier,  skepticism.     Forward,  ye  troops 


"THE   GLORY   OF   SUNRISE." 

of  God,  to  this  third  line  of  the  enemy's  intrenchments,  the  intellectual 
difficulties  about  religion.  Some  of  you  find  a  hundred  perplexities 
about  the  parables  ;  a  hundred  questions  about  the  ninth  chapter  of 
Romans  ;  passage  set  against  passage  in  seeming  contradiction.  You 
pile  up  a  battlement  of  Colenso  on  the  Pentateuch,  and  Tom  Paine' s 
"Age  of  Reason,"  and  Renan's  "Life  of  Christ"  ;  and  some  parts  of 
the  wall  are  so  high  that  it  would  be  folly  to  attempt  to  take  them. 
But  there  is  a  hole  in  the  wall  of  fortification,  and  through  that  hole  in 


*34  SIN'S  ADVANCE  GUARDS. 

the  wall  I  put  my  right  hand,  and  take  your  own,  and  say,  "  My 
brother,  do  you  want  to  be  saved  ?  "  And  you  say,  "  Yes."  "  Well, 
Jesus  Christ  came  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  is  lost.  Wilt  thou 
let  him  in — the  bruised  One  of  the  Cross  ?  He  will  take  away  all  thy 
sins  and  all  thy  sorrows.  In  one  half  hour,  he  will  give  thee  more  peace 
than  thou  hast  had  in  all  the  twenty  years  of  thy  questioning  and 
doubting  !  Let  the  great  guns  of  Colenso  and  Renan  blaze  away. 
Christ  comes  not  to  the  gate  of  your  head,  but  to  the  door  of  your 
heart,  and,  tapping  gently  against  it,  he  says,  '  Behold,  I  stand  at  the 
door  and  knock.  Whosoever  will  open  to  me,  I  will  come  in  to  him, 
and  sup  with  him,  and  he  with  me.' ' 

Skepticism  seems  to  do  quite  well  in  prosperity,  but  it  fails  in 
adversity.  A  celebrated  infidel,  on  shipboard,  in  the  sunshine,  cari- 
catured the  Christian  religion,  and  scoffed  at  its  professors.  But  the 
sea  arose,  and  the  waves  dashed  across  the  hurricane-deck,  and  the 
man  cried  out,  "  O  my  God,  what  shall  I  do  ?  what  shall  I  do?  "  A 
father  went  down  to  see  his  dying  son  in  a  southern  hospital  during  the 
war.  Finding  that  the  boy  was  dying,  he  went  to  the  chaplain  and 
said,  "I  wish  you  would  go  and  see  my  boy,  and  get  him  prepared  for 
the  future."  "Why;"  said  the  chaplain,  "I  thought  you  did  not  be- 
lieve in  religion!"  "Well,"  said  he,  "I  don't,  but  his  mother  does; 
and  I  would  a  great  deal  rather  the  boy  should  follow  his  mother.  Go 
and  get  him  prepared."  Skepticism  does  tolerably  well  to  live  by,  but 
it  is  a  poor  thing  to  die  by.  It  may  do  for  the  peaceful  land,  but  it 
will  never  do  for  an  ocean  storm, 


PERILS  OF  THE  SEA. 


23fr 


A  LIVE  CHURCH. 


Alive  church  will  look  after  all  its  financial  interests,  and  be  as  pronipv 
in  the  meeting  of  those  obligations  as  ajny  bank  in  all  the  cities. 
There  is  no  more  ghastly  suffering  in  the  United  States  to-day  than 
is  to  be  found  in  some  of  the  parsonages  of  this  country.  I  denounce 
the  niggardliness  of  many  of  the  churches  of  Jesus  Christ,  which 
keeps  some  men,  who  are  very  apostles  for  piety  and  consecration,  in 
circumstances  where  they  are  always  apologetic,  and  have  not  that 
courage  which  they  would  have,  could  they  stand  in  the  presence  of 
people  whom  they  knew  to  be  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  their  financial 
duties  to  the  Christian  Church.  Alas !  for  those  men  of  whom  the 
world  is  not  worthy.  Do  you  know  the  simple  fact  that  in  the  United 
States  to-day  the  salary  of  ministers  averages  less  than  six  hundred 
dollars  ?  When  you  consider  that  some  of  the  salaries  are  very  large, 
you,  as  business  men,  will  immediately  see  to  what  great  straits  many 
of  God's  noblest  servants  are  this  day  reduced. 

THE    REQUISITES   OF   CHURCH   VITALITY. 

A  live  church  will  be  punctual  in  its  attendance.  If  in  such  a 
church  the  services  begin  at  half-past  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
people  will  not  come  at  a  quarter  of  eleven.  If  in  such  a  church  the 
services  begin  at  half-past  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  the  people  will 
not  come  at  a  quarter  of  eight.  In  many  churches  there  is  great  tar- 
diness. The  fact  is,  some  people  are  always  late.  They  were  born 
too  late,  and  I  suppose  they  will  die  too  late.  It  is  poor  inspiration  to 
a  Christian  minister  when,  in  preliminary  exercises,  half  the  people 
seated  in  their  pews  are  looking  around  to  see  the  other  half  come  in, 
accompanied  with  the  i  ustling  of  dresses  through  the  aisle  and  the 

slamming  of  doors  at  the  entrance.    There  ought  to  be  no  preliminary 
236 


A  LTVE  CHURCH.  237 

exercises.  There  is  a  grand  delusion  in  the  churches  of  Jesus  Christ 
on  this  subject  The  very  first  word  of  the  invocation  is  as  important 
as  anything  that  may  come  after.  The  Scripture  lesson  is  the  voice  of 
God  to  man,  while  a  sermon  may  be  only  the  voice  of  man  to  man. 
Happy  is  that  church  where  all  the  worshipers  are  present  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  services.  I  know  there  is  a  difference  in  time-pieces, 
but  a  live  church  goes  by  railroad  time. 

I  go  further,  and  tell  you  that  in  every  live  church  all  the  people 
take  part  in  the  exercises.  A  stranger  can  tell,  by  the  way  the  first 
hymn  starts,  whether  it  is  a  live  church.  It  is  a  sad  thing  when  the 
music  comes  down  in  a  cold  drizzle  from  the  organ  loft,  and  freezes  on 
the  heads  of  the  silent  people  beneath.  It  is  an  awful  thing  for  a  hymn 
to  start  and  then  find  itself  lonely  and  unbefriended,  wandering  around 
about,  and  after  a  while  lost  amid  the  arches.  That  is  not  melody  to 
the  Lord.  In  heaven  they  all  sing,  although  some  sing  not  half  as  well 
as  others. 

A  live  church  will  have  commodious  and  appropriate  architecture. 
A  log  church  may  do  in  a  place  where  people  live  in  log  cabins  ;  but  in 
cities  where  people  have  commodious  and  beautiful  apartments,  a 
church  that  is  not  commodious  and  beautiful  is  a  moral  nuisance  ;  it  is 
an  insult  to  God  and  an  insult  to  man. 

A  live  church  must  be  a  soul-saving  church.  The  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ  must  be  preached  in  it.  A  church  may  be  built  around  one  man 
who  shall  read  an  essay,  the  church  may  be  built  around  one  man  who 
shall  preach  something  else  than  the  Gospel,  and  there  may  be  a  large 
congregation  ;  but  after  a  while  the  man  dies,  and  the  church  dies. 
That  church  has  a  very  poor  foundation  that  is  built  on  two  human 
shoulders.  I  could  tell  you  of  a  church  in  the  city  of  Boston  that  was 
more  largely  attended  some  thirty  years  ago  than  any  other  church  in 
that  city.  Where  is  it  to-day?  Utterly  gone  out  of  existence.  A  man 
stood  there  who  preached  everything  but  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 
He  died,  and  the  church  died.  We  want  a  church-  built  on  the  Rock 
of  Ages. 

OLD    INSURANCE. 

The  trouble  is,  that  a  great  many  are  depending  upon  old  insur- 
ances against  the  damage  of  sin,  and  old  insurances  against  the  dam- 
age of  the  great  future — old  insurances  that  have  run  out.  Suppose  that 
you  had  allowed  the  fire  insurance  on  your  home  to  expire  yesterday, 


*3*  A  LIVE  CHURCH. 

and  to-day  your  home  should  be  consumed  ;  would  you  have  the 
impertinence  to  go  to-morrow  morning  with  the  papers  to  the  insurance 
company  and  demand  the  amount  of  the  policy?  No.  If  you  did, 
they  would  say,  "  You  have  no  business  here  ;  you  have  no  right  to 
ask  that ;  you  let  the  insurance  expire  on  Saturday — this  is  Monday." 

0  follower  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  do  not  depend  upon  old  insurances,  ten, 
or  twenty,  or  forty  years  old,  as  I  know  some  of  you  are  depending 

f  upon  them  !     You  want  the  policy  paid  up  by  the  blood  and  the  tears 

j'of  the  Son  of  God. 

You  will  notice,  in  regard  to  the  old  laver  looking-glass,  that  the 
priests  there  washed  their  hands  and  their  feet.  The  water  came  down 
through  the  spouts  from  the  basin,  and  they  carefully  and  completely 
washed  their  hands  and  their  feet,  an  action  typical  of  the  fact  that  this 
Gospel  is  to  reach  to  the  very  extremities  of  our  moral  nature.  Here 
is  a  man  who  says,  "I  will  fence  off  part  of  my  heart,  and  it  shall  be 
a  garden  full  of  flowers  and  fruits  of  Christian  character,  and  all  the 
rest  shall  be  the  devil's  commons."  You  cannot  do  it.  It  is  all  garden 
or  none.  You  tell  me  about  a  man,  that  he  is  a  good  Christian  ex- 
cept in  politics.  I  deny  your  statement.  If  his  religion  will  not  take 
him  in  purity  through  the  autumnal  election,  that  religion  is  worth 
nothing  in  May,  June  or  July.  You  say,  "That  man  is  a  very  good 
man,  he  is  a  Christian,  he  is  useful,  but  he  overreaches  in  a  bargain." 

1  deny  your  statement     If  it  is  an  all-pervading  religion,   and  if  it 
touches  a  man  at  all  at  one  point  of  his  nature,  it  will  pervade  his  en- 
tire nature. 

Just  as  soon  as  we  come  in  and  look  at  this  mirror  of  the  Gospel 
of  Jesus  Christ,  we  see  ourselves  just  as  we  are.  "All  have  sinned 
and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God."  That  is  one  showing.  "  All  we, 
like  sheep,  have  gone  astray."  That  is  another  showing.  "  From 
the  crown  of  the  head  to  the  sole  of  the  foot  there  is  no  health  in  us." 
That  is  another  showing.  Some  people  call  these  defects  imperfections, 
or  eccentricities,  or  erratic  behavior,  or  wild  oats,  or  high  living ;  but 
the  Bible  calls  them  filth,  transgression,  the  abominable  thino-  that  God 

o  o 

hates.  Paul  got  one  glance  at  that  mirror — that  polished  mirror — and 
he  cried  out,  "Oh,  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me?  " 
David  caught  one  glimpse  of  that  mirror,  and  he  cried  out,  "  Purge 
me  with  hyssop,  and  I  shall  be  clean  !  "  Martin  Luther  got  ore  glimpse 


A  LIVE  CHURCH.  23$ 

of  that  mirror,  and  he  cried  out  to  Staupitz,    "  Oh,   my  sins,   my  sins, 
my  sins  !  " 

FASHION-PLATES. 

There  is  another  mirror  in  which  it  is  at  times  wholesome  to  look 
— that  of  fashion  and  folly.  Show  me  the  fashion-plates  of  any  age 
between  this  and  the  time  of  Louis  the  Sixteenth  of  France,  and  of 
Henry  the  Eighth  of  England,  and  I  will  tell  you  the  type  of  morals 
or  immorals  of  that  age  or  that  year.  There  is  no  exception  to  the 
fact  that  modest  apparel  indicates  a  righteous  people,  and  that  immodest 
apparel  indicates  a  contaminated  and  depraved  society.  You  wonder 


that  the  city  of  Tyre  was  destroyed  with  such  a  terrible  destruction. 
Have  you  ever  seen  the  fashion-plate  of  Tyre? 

I  will  show  it  to  you  :  "  Moreover,  the  Lord  saith,  because  the 
daughters  of  Zion  are  haughty  and  walk  with  stretched-forth  necks  and 
wanton  eyes,  walking  and  mincing  as  they  go,  and  making  a  tinkling 
with  their  feet,  in  that  day  the  Lord  will  take  away  the  bravery  of  their 
tinkling  ornaments  about  their  feet,  and  their  cauls,  and  their  round 
tires  like  the  moon,  .  .  .  the  rings  and  nose-jewels,  the  change- 
able suits  of  apparel,  and  the  mantles,  and  the  wimples,  and  the 
crisping-pins."  (Isaiah  3  :  16 — 22.)  That  is  the  fashion-plate  of  ancient 
Tyre.  Do  you  wonder  that  God  in  his  indignation  blotted  out  that  city  ? 


THE  CEDARS  OF  LEBANON. 


IN  our  journey  we  change  stirrup  for  wheel.  It  is  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning  at  Damascus,  Syria,  and  we  are  among  the  lanterns  of  the 

hostelry  waiting  for  the  stage  to  start.  A  Mohammedan  in  high  life 
is  putting  his  three  wives  on  board  within  an  apartment  by  themselves, 
and  our  party  occupy  the  main  apartment  of  one  of  the  most  uncom- 
fortable vehicles  in  which  mortals  were  ever  jammed  and  half-strangu- 
lated. But  we  must  not  let  the  discomforts  annul  or  disparage  the 
opportunities.  We  are  rolling  on,  and  out,  and  up  the  mountains  of 
Lebanon,  their  forehead  under  a  crown  of  snow,  which  coronet  the 
fingers  of  the  hottest  summer  cannot  cast  down. 

We  are  ascending  heights  around  which  is  garlanded  much  of  the 
finest  poesy  of  the  Scriptures,  and  are  rising  toward  the  mightiest  do- 
minion that  botany  ever  recognized,  reigned  over  by  the  most  imperial 
tree  that  ever  swayed  a  leafy  scepter — the  Lebanon  cedar — a  tree  eulo- 
gized as  having  grown  from  a  nut  put  into  the  ground  by  God  himself, 
for  no  human  hand  had  anything  to  do  with  its  planting  :  "  The  trees 
of  Lebanon  which  He  hath  planted." 

ARBORESCENT   GIANTS. 

The  average  height  of  this  mountain  is  seven  thousand  feet,  but 
.in  one  place  it  lifts  its  head  to  an  altitude  of  ten  thousand.  No  highei 
than  six  thousand  feet  can  vegetation  exist,  but  below  that  line,  at  the 
right  season,  are  vineyards,  and  orchards,  and  olive  groves,  and  flowers 
that  dash  the  mountain  side  with  a  very  carnage  of  color,  and  fill  the 
air  with  aromatics  that  the  inspired  prophet  Hosea,  and  Solomon,  the 
great  and  wise  king,  celebrated  as  "  the  smell  of  Lebanon."  At  a 
height  of  six  thousand  feet  is  a  grove  of  cedars,  the  only  descendants 

of  those  forests  from  which  Solomon  cut  timber  for  the  temple,  and 
240 


16 


THANKSGIVING   UNTO   THE   LORD 


7- 

- 


242 


hewing 


THE  CEDARS  OF  LEBANON. 

where  at  one  time  there  were  one  hundred  thousand 
out  the  beams  from  which  great  cities  were  constructed. 

But  this  nation  of  trees  has  by  human  iconoclasm  been  massacred 
until  only  a  small  group  is  left.  This  race  of  giants  is  nearly  extinct  ; 
but  I  have  no  doubt  that  some  of  these  were  here  when  Hiram,  king  of 
Tyre,  ordered  the  assassination  of  those  cedars  of  Lebanon  which  the 
Lord  planted.  From  the  multitude  of  uses  to  which  it  may  be  put  and 

I 


THE    RAISING    OF    LAZARUS 

the  employment  of  it  in  the  Scriptures,  the  cedar  is  the  divine  favorite. 
When  the  storms  of  winter  terrify  the  earth,  and  hurl  the  rocks  in 
avalanche  down  this  mountain  side,  this  tree  grapples  the  hurricane  of 
snow  in  triumph,  and  leaves  the  spent  fury  at  its  feet.  From  sixty  to 
eighty  feet  in  height  is  it,  the  horizontal  branches  of  great  sweep,  with 
their  burden  of  leaves  needle-shaped,  the  top  of  the  tree  pyramidal,  a 
throne  of  foliage  on  which  might,  and  splendor,  and  glory  sit.  But  so 


»44  THE  CEDARS  ~OF  LEBANON. 

continuously  has  the  extermination  of  trees  gone  on,  that  for  the  most 
part  the  mountains  of  Lebanon  are  bare  of  foliage  ;  while,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  the  earth  in  all  lands  is  being  likewise  denuded. 

The  axe  is  slaying  the  forests  all  round  the  earth.  To  stop  the 
slaughter  God  opened  the  coal-mines  of  England,  and  Scotland,  and 
America,  and  the  world,  practically  saying  by  that :  "Here  is  fuel  ;  as 
far  as  possible,  let  my  trees  alone."  And  by  opening  for  the  human 
race  the  great  quarries  of  granite,  and  showing  the  human  family  how 
to  make  brick,  God  is  practically  saying  :  "  Here  is  building  material ; 
let  my  trees  alone."  We  had  better  stop  the  axes  among  the  Adiron- 
aacks.  We  had  better  stop  the  axes  in  all  our  forests,  as  it  would 
have  been  better  for  Syria  if  the  axes  had  long  ago  been  stopped  among 
the  mountains  of  Lebanon. 

GOD'S   TEMPLES. 

Plant  the  trees  in  your  parks,  that  the  weary  may  rest  under  them. 
Plant  them  along  your  streets,  that  up  through  the  branches  passers-by 
may  see  the  God  who  first  made  the  trees,  and  then  made  man  to  look 
at  them.  Plant  them  along  the  brooks,  that  under  them  children  may 
play.  Plant  them  in  your  gardens,  that,  as  in  Eden,  the  Lord  may 
walk  there  in  the  cool  of  the  day.  Plant  them  in  cemeteries,  their 
shade  like  a  mourner's  veil,  and  their  leaves  sounding  like  the  rustle 
of  the  wings  of  the  departed. 

Let  Arbor  day,  or  the  day  for  the  planting  of  trees,  recognized  by 
the  legislatures  of  many  of  the  States,  be  observed  by  all  our  people, 
and  the  next  one  hundred  years  do  as  much  in  planting  these  leafy 
glories  of  God  as  the  last  one  hundred  years  have  accomplished  in 
their  •destruction.  When,  not  long  before  his  death.  I  saw  on  the  banks 
of  the  Hudson,  in  his  glazed  cap,  riding  on  horseback,  George  P. 
Morris,  the  great  song  writer  of  America,  I  found  him  grandly  emotional, 
and  I  could  understand  how  he  wrote,  "  Woodman,  spare  that  tree  !" 
the  verses  of  which  many  of  us  have  felt  like  quoting  in  belligerent 
spirit,  when,  under  the  stroke  of  some  one  without  sense  or  reason  we 
saw  a  beautiful  tree  prostrated. 

SCRIPTURAL   SIMILES. 

As  we  ride  along  on  these  mountains  of  Lebanon,  we  bethink  how 
its  cedars  spread  their  branches  and  breathe  their  aroma  and  cast  their 


. 


THE   TREAvSURES   OF   WINTER 


245 


246  THE  CEDARS  OF  LEBANON. 

shadows  all  through  the  Bible.  Solomon  discoursed  about  them  in  his 
botanical  works  when  he  spoke  of  trees,  "  from  the  cedar  tree  that  is  in 
Lebanon,  even  unto  the  hyssop  that  springeth  out  of  the  wall."  The 
Psalmist  says,  "The  righteous  shall  grow  like  a  cedar  in  Lebanon," 
and  in  one  of  his  magnificent  doxologies  calls  on  the  cedars  to  praise 
the  Lord.  Solomon  says,  the  countenance  of  Christ  is  excellent  as  the  j 
cedars,  and  Isaiah  declares,  "The  day  of  the  Lord  ^hall  be  upon  all 
the  cedars  of  Lebanon."  And  Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel  and  Amos  and 
Zephaniah  and  Zechariah  weave  its  foliage  into  their  sublimest 
utterances. 

As  we  ride  over  Lebanon  to-day,  there  is  a  howling  wind  sweep- 
ing past,  and  a  dash  of  rain,  all  the  better  enabling  us  to  appreciate 
that  description  of  a  tempest  which,  no  doubt,  was  suggested  by  what 
David  had  seen  with  his  own  eyes  among  these  heights,  for  as  a  soldier 
he  carried  his  wars  clear  up  to  Damascus,  and  such  a  poet  as  he,  I 
warrant,  spent  many  a  day  on  Lebanon.  And  perhaps  while  he  was 
seated  on  fhis  very  rock  against  which  our  carriage  jolts,  he  wrote  that 
wonderful  description  of  a  thunder-storm  :  "The  voice  of  the  Lord  is 
powerful.  The  voice  of  the  Lord  is  full  of  majesty.  The  voice  of  the 
Lord  breaketh  the  cedars  of  Lebanon.  Yea,  the  Lord  breaketh  the 
cedars  of  Lebanon.  He  maketh  them  also  to  skip  like  a  calf,  Lebanon 
and  Sirion  like  a  young  unicorn.  The  voice  of  the  Lord  divideth  the 
flames  of  fire." 

As  the  lion  is  the  monarch  of  the  fields,  and  behemoth  the 
monarch  of  the  waters,  the  cedar  is  the  monarch  of  the  trees.  And  I 
think  one  reason  why  it  is  so  glorified  all  up  and  down  the  Bible  is  be- 
cause we  need  more  of  its  characteristics  in  our  religious  life.  We 
have  too  much  of  the  willow,  and  are  easily  bent  this  way  or  that ;  too 
much  of  the  aspen,  and  we  tremble  under  every  zephyr  of  assault ;  too 
much  of  the  bramble  tree,  and  our  sharp  points  sting  and  wound  ;  but 
not  enough  of  the  cedar,  wide-branched  and  heaven-aspiring  and  tem- 
pest-grappling. 

But  the  reason  these  cedars  stand  so  well  is  that  they  are  deep- 
rooted.  They  run  their  anchors  down  into  the  caverns  of  the  mountain 
and  fasten  to  the  very  foundations  of  the  earth,  and  twist  around  and 
clinch  themselves  on  the  other  side  of  the  deepest  layer  of  rock  they 
can  reach.  And  that  is  the  difference  between  Christians  who  stand 
and  Christians  who  fall.  It  is  the  difference  between  a  superficial 


THE  CEDARS  OF  LEBANON.  247 

character  and  one  that  has  clutched  its  roots  deep  down  around  and 
under  the  Rock  of  Ages. 

EVERLASTING    STRENGTH. 

One  of  the  Lebanon  cedars,  still  standing,  was  examined  by  a 
scientist,  and  from  its  concentric  circles  it  was  found  to  be  thirty-five 
hundred  years  old ;  and  there  is  such  a  thing  as  everlasting  strength, 
and  such  a  stanchness  of  Christian  character  that  all  time  and  all  eter- 
nity instead  of  being  its  demolition  shall  be  its  opportunity.  Not  such 
are  those  vacillating  Christians  who  are  so  pious  on  Sunday  that  they 
have  no  religion  left  for  the  week-day.  As  the  anaconda  gorges  itself 
with  food  and  then  seems  for  a  long  time  to  lie  thoroughly  insensible, 
so  there  are  men  who  will  on  Sunday  get  such  a  religious  surfeit  that 
the  rest  of  the  week  they  seem  thoroughly  dead  to  all  religious  emotion. 

The  reason  that  God  planted  these  cedars  was  to  suggest  that  we 
ought,  in  our  religious  character,  to  be  deep  like  the  cedar,  high  like 
the  cedar,  broad-branched  as  the  cedar.  A  traveler  measured  the  spread 
of  the  boughs  of  one  of  these  trees,  and  found  it  to  be  one  hundred  and 
eleven  feet  from  branch  tip  to  branch  tip,  and  I  have  seen  cedars  of 
Christian  character  that,  through  their  prayers  and  charities,  put  out  one 
branch  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  America  and  another  branch  to  the 
uttermost  parts  of  Asia,  and  these  wide-branched  Christians  will  keep 
on  multiplying  until  all  the  earth  is  overshadowed  with  mercy. 

But  mark  you,  these  cedars  of  Lebanon  could  not  grow  if  planted 
in  mild  climates,  and  in  soft  air,  and  in  carefully-watered  gardens. 
They  must  have  the  gymnasium  of  the  midnight  hurricane  to  develop 
their  arms.  They  must  play  the  athlete  with  a  thousand  winters  before 
their  feet  are  rightly  planted,  and  their  foreheads  rightly  lifted,  and 
their  arms  rightly  muscled.  And  if  there  be  any  other  way  for  devel- 
oping strong  Christian  character  except  by  storms  of  trouble,  I  never 
heard  of  it.  Call  the  roll  of  martyrs,  call  the  roll  of  the  prophets,  call  the 
roll  of  the  apostles,  and  see  which  of  them  had  an  easy  time  of  it.  Which 
of  these  cedars  grew  in  the  warm  valley?  Not  one  of  them.  Honey- 
suckles thrive  best  on  the  south  side  of  the  house,  but  cedars  in  a 
Syrian  whirlwind. 

PERFECTED   THROUGH    SUFFERING. 

What  has  been  the  history  of  most  of  the  great  cedars  in  mer- 
chandise, in  art,  in  law,  in  medicine,  in  statesmanship,  in  Christian 


248  THE  CEDARS  OF  LEBANON. 

usefulness?  "John,  get  up  and  milk  the  cows  ;  it's  late  ;  it's  half-past 
five  in  the  morning.  Split  an  armful  of  wood  on  your  way  out,  so 
that  we  can  build  the  fires  for  breakfast.  Put  your  bare  feet  on  the 
cold  oilcloth  and  break  the  ice  in  your  pitcher  before  you  can  wash 
Yes,  it  has  been  snowing  and  drifting  again  last  night,  and  we  will  have 
to  break  the  roads."  The  boy's  educational  advantages — a  long  oak 
plank  without  any  back  to  it  in  a  country  school-house,  and  stove  throw- 
ing out  more  smoke  than  heat — pressing  on  from  one  hardship  to 
another.  After  a  while,  a  position  on  salary  or  wages  large  enough  tc 
keep  life,  but  keep  it  at  its  lowest  ebb  ;  starting  in  occupation  or  busi- 
ness with  prosperous  men  trying  to  fight  you  back  at  every  step.  But 
after  a  good  while  you  get  fairly  on  your  feet,  your  opportunities  widen, 
and  then  by  some  sudden  turn  you  are  triumphant.  You  are  master 
of  the  situation  and  defiant  of  all  earth  and  hell.  A  Lebanon 
cedar ! 

John  MHton,  on  his  way  up  to  the  throne  of  the  world's  sacred 
poesy,  must  sell  his  copyright  of  "Paradise  Lost"  for  seventy-two 
dollars  in  three  payments.  William  Shakespeare,  on  his  way  up  to  be 
acknowledged  the  greatest  dramatist  of  all  ages,  must  hold  horses  at 
the  door  of  the  London  theater  for  a  sixpence  ;  and  Homer  must 
struggle  through  total  blindness  to  immortality ;  and  John  Bunyan 
must  cheer  himself  on  the  way  up  by  making  a  flute  out  of  his  prison 
stool  ;  and  Canova,  the  sculptor,  must  toil  on  through  orphanage, 
modeling  a  lion  in  butter  before  he  could  cut  his  'statues  in  marble. 
The  great  Stephenson  must  watch  cows  in  the  field  for  a  few  pennies, 
and  then  become  a  stoker,  and  afterwrard  mend  clocks,  before  he  puts 
the  locomotive  on  its  track  and  calls  forth  plaudits  from  parliaments 
and  medals  from  kings.  Abel  Stevens  is  picked  up  a  neglected  child 
of  the  street,  and  rises  through  his  consecrated  genius  to  be  one  of  the 
most  illustrious  clergymen  and  historians  of  the  century.  And  Bishop 
'Janes,  of  the  same  church,  in  boyhood  worked  his  passage  from  Ireland 
to  America  and  up  to  usefulness,  where,  in  the  bishopric,  he  was  second 
to  no  one  who  ever  adorned  it. 

The  Bible  speaks  of  the  snows  of  Lebanon,  and  at  this  season  of 
the  year  the  snows  there  must  be  tremendous.  The  cedars  catch  that 
skyful  of  crystals  on  their  brow  and  on  their  long  arms.  Piled  up  in 
great  heaps  are  those  snows,  enough  to  crush  other  trees  to  the  ground, 
splitting  the  branches  from  the  trunk  and  leaving  them  rent  and  torn, 


THE  CEDARS  OF  LEBANON.  249 

never  to  rise.  But  what  do  the  cedars  care  for  these  snows  on 
Lebanon?  They  look  up  to  the  winter  skies  and  say:  "Snow  on! 
Empty  the  white  heavens  upon  us,  and  when  this  storm  is  passed  let 
other  processions  of  tempest  try  to  bury  us  in  their  fury.  We  have 
for  five  hundred  winters  been  accustomed  to  this,  and  for  the  next  five 
hundred  winters  we  will  cheerfully  take  all  you  have  to  send,  for  that 
is  the  way  we  develop  our  strength,  and  that  is  the  way  we  serve  God 
and  teach  all  ages  how  to  endure  and  conquer."  So  I  say :  Good 
cheer  to  all  people  who  are  snowed  under !  Put  your  faith  in  God  and 
you  will  come  out  gloriously.  Others  may  be  stunted  growths,  or 
weak  junipers  on  the  lower  levels  of  spirituality,  but  you  are  going  to 
be  Lebanon  cedars.  At  last  it  will  be  said  of  such  as  you  :  "These 
are  they  who  came  out  of  great  tribulation  and  had  their  robes  washed 
and  made  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 

But,  while  crossing  over  these  mountains  of  Lebanon,  I  bethink 
myself  of  what  an  exciting  scene  it  must  be  when  one  of  these  cedars 
does  fall.  It  does  not  go  down  like  other  trees,  with  a  slight  crackle 
that  hardly  makes  the  woodsman  look  up,  or  a  hawk  flutter  from  a 
neighboring  bough.  When  a  cedar  falls  it  is  the  great  event  in  the 
calendar  of  the  mountains.  The  axe-men  fly.  The  wild  beasts  slink  to 
their  dens.  The  partridges  swoop  to  the  valley  for  escape.  The 
neighboring  trees  go  down  under  the  awful  weight  of  the  descending 
monarch.  The  rocks  are  moved  out  of  their  places,  and  the  earth 
trembles  as  from  miles  around  all  ravines  send  back  their  sympathetic 
echoes.  Crash  !  crash  !  crash  !  So  when  the  great  cedars  of  worldly 
or  Christian  influence  fall,  it  is  something  terrific.  Within  the  past  few 
years  how  many  mighty  and  overtopping  men  have  gone  down ! 

THE    PRESENT   MORAL   STORM. 

There  seems  now  to  be  an  epidemic  of  moral  disaster.  The 
moral  world,  the  religious  world,  the  political  world,  the  commercial 
world,  are  quaking  with  the  fall  of  Lebanon  cedars.  It  is  awful.  We 
are  compelled  to  cry  out  with  Zechariah,  the  prophet:  "Howl,  fir-trees, 
for  the  cedar  is  fallen  !"  Some  of  the  smaller  trees  are  glad  of  it. 
When  some  great  dealer  in  stocks  goes  down,  the  small  dealers  clap 
their  hands  and  say,  "  Good  for  him  !"  When  a  great  political  leader 
goes  down,  the  small  politicians  clap  their  hands  and  say,  "'Just  as  I 
expected!"  When  a  great  minister  of  religion  falls,  many  little 


25o  THE  CEDARS  OP  LEBANON. 

ministers  laugh  up  their  sleeves  and  think  themselves  somehow  ad- 
vantaged. Ah,  beloved  readers,  no  one  makes  anything  out  of  moral 
shipwreck. 

Not  a  willow  by  the  rivers  of  Damascus,  not  a  sycamore  on  the 
plains  of  Jericho,  not  an  olive  tree  in  all  Palestine,  is  helped  by  the  fall 
of  a  Lebanon  cedar.  Better  weep  and  pray  and  tremble  and  listen  to 
Paul's  advice  to  the  Galatians  when  he  says,  "  Considering  thyself  lest 
thou  also  be  tempted."  No  man  is  safe  until  he  is  dead  unless  he  be 
divinely  protected.  A  greater  thinker  than  Lord  Francis  Bacon  the 
world  never  saw,  and  he  changed  the  world's  mode  of  thinking  for  all 
time  by  his  "  Novum  Organum,"  a  miracle  of  literature.  Yet  with 
thirty-eight  thousand  dollars  salary  and  estates  worth  millions,  and  from 
the  highest  judicial  bench  of  the  world,  he  went  down  under  the  power 
of  bribery,  confessed  his  crime  and  was  sentenced  to  the  Tower  and 
the  scorn  of  centuries.  Howl,  fir-tree,  for  the  cedar  is  fallen ! 

Warren  Hastings,  rising  until  he  became  governor-general  of 
India  and  the  envy  of  the  chief  public  men  of  his  day,  plunged  into 
cruelties  against  the  barbaric  people  he  had  been  sent  to  rule,  until  his 
name  was  chiefly  associated  with  the  criminal  trial  in  Westminster 
Hall  where  came  upon  him  the  anathemas  of  Sheridan,  Fox,  Edmund 
3urke,  the  English  nation,  and  all  time.  Howl,  fir-tree,  for  the  cedar 
is  fallen  !  As  eminent  instances  of  moral  disaster  are  found  in  our 
own  land  and  our  own  time,  instances  that  I  do  not  recite  lest  I  should 
wound  the  feelings  of  those  now  alive  to  mourn  the  shipwreck.  Let 
your  indignation  against  the  fallen  turn  to  pity. 

A  judge  in  one  of  our  American  courts  gives  this  experience.  In  a 
'.espectable  but  poor  family  a  daughter  was  getting  a  musical  education. 
She  needed  one  more  course  of  lessons  to  complete  that  education.  The 
father's  means  were  exhausted,  and  so  great  was  his  anxiety  to  help 
his  daughter  that  he  feloniously  took  some  money  from  his  employer, 
and,  going  home  to  his  daughter,  said,  "There  is  the  money  to  com- 
plete your  musical  education."  The  wife  and  mother  suspected  some- 
thing wrong,  and  obtained  from  her  husband  the  whole  story,  and  that 
night  went  around  with  her  husband  to  the  merchant's  house  and  sur- 
rendered the  whole  amount  of  the  money  and  asked  forgiveness. 
Forgiveness  was  denied  and  the  man  was  arrested.  The  judge,  know- 
ing all  the  circumstances,  and  that  the  money  had  all  been  returned, 
suggested  to  the  merchant  that  he  had  better  let  the  matter  drop  for 


THE  CEDARS  OF  LEBANON.  *° 

the  sake  of  the  wife  and  the  daughter.  No  !  He  would  not  let  it  drop 
and  he  did  all  he  could  to  make  the  case  conspicuous  and  blasting. 
The  judge  says  that  afterward  that  same  inexorable  merchant  was  be- 
fore him  for  breaking  the  law  of  the  land.  It  is  a  poor  rule  that  will 
not  work  both  ways.  Let  him  that  standeth  take  heed  lest  he  fall. 
Not  congratulation  but  tears,  when  a  cedar  is  fallen. 

Yet  there  is  one  cedar  of  Lebanon  that  always  has  and  always 
will  overtop  all  others.  It  is  the  Christ  whom  Ezekiel  describes  as  a 
goodly  cedar,  and  says,  "  Under  it  shall  come  all  fowl  of  every  wing." 
Make  your  nest  in  that  Great  Cedar !  Then  let  the  storms  beat  and 
the  earth  rock,  and  time  end,  and  eternity  begin,  all  shall  be  well. 

THE    BOTANY   OF    PALESTINE. 

In  my  journey  up  and  down  Palestine  and  Syria,  nothing  impressed 
me  with  greater  force  than  the  trees — the  terebinths,  the  sycamores, 
the  tamarisks,  the  oleanders,  the  mulberries,  the  olives,  the  myrtles,  the 
cedars — all  of  them  explanatory  of  so  much  of  the  Scriptures.  And 
the  time  is  coming  when,  through  an  improved  arboriculture,  the  round 
world  shall  be  circumferenced,  engirdled,  embosomed,  emparadised  in 
shade-trees  and  fruit-trees  and  flower-trees.  Isaiah  declares  in  one 
place,  "The  glory  of  Lebanon  shall  be  given  unto  it,"  and  in  another 
place,  "All  the  trees  of  the  field  shall  clap  their  hands.  Instead  of  thf 
thorn  shall  come  up  the  fir-tree  ;  instead  of  the  briar  shall  come  up  the 
myrtle  tree."  Oh,  grandest  arborescence  of  all  time  !  Begin  !  Begin  ! 

I  am  so  glad  that  the  holy  land  of  Heaven,  like  the  holy  land  of 
Palestine  and  Syria,  is  a  great  place  for  trees — an  orchard  of  them,  a 
grove  of  them,  a  forest  of  them  !  St.  John  saw  them  along  the  streets 
and  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  and  every  month  they  yielded  a  great 
crop  of  fruit.  You  know  what  an  imposing  appearance  trees  give  to 
a  city  on  earth,  but  how  it  exalts  my  idea  of  heaven  when  St.  John  de- 
scribes the  city  on  high  as  having  its  streets  and  its  rivers  lined  with 
them.  On,  the  trees  !  the  trees  !  The  jasper  walls,  the  fountains,  the 
temples  were  not  enough.  There  would  have  been  something  wanting 
yet  So,  to  complete  all  that  pomp  and  splendor,  I  behold  the  up 
branching  trees  of  life 

"  Woodman,  spare  that  tree  ! 

Touch  not  a  single  bough ! 
In  youth  it  sheltered  me, 
And  I'll  protect  it  now. 


THE  CEDARS  OF  LEBANON. 

'Twas  my  forefather's  hand 
That  placed  it  near  his  cot; 

There,  woodman,  let  it  stand, 
Thy  axe  shall  harm  it  not 

•*  When  but  an  idle  boy 

I  sought  its  grateful  shade  ; 
In  all  their  gushing  joy 

Here,  too,  my  sisters  play'd. 
My  mother  kiss'd  me  here, 

My  father  press'd  my  hand- 
Forgive  this  foolish  tear, 

But  let  that  old  oak  stand  ! 

*  My  heartstrings  round  thee  cling 

Close  as  thy  bark,  old  friend. 
Here  shall  the  wild  bird  sing, 

And  still  thy  branches  bend. 
Old  tree !  the  storm  still  brave  1 

And,  woodman,  leave  the  spot. 
^Taile  I've  a  hand  to  save, 

'•"by  axe  shall  harm  it  not" 


NATIONAL  EVILS. 


THAT  there  are  hundreds  and  thousands  of  infelicitous  homes  in 
America,  no  one  will  doubt.     If  there  were  only  one  skeleton 
in  the  closet,  that  might  be  locked  up  and  abandoned  ;  but  in 
many  a  home  there  is  a  skeleton  in  the  hallway  and  a  skeleton  in  each 
of  the  apartments. 

"Unhappily  married  "  are  two  words  descriptive  of  many  a  home- 
stead.    It  needs  no  orthodox  minister  to  prove  to  a  badly-mated  pair 
;  at  there  is  a  hell  ;  they  are  in  it  now. 

Some  say  that  for  the  alleviation  of  all  these  domestic  disorders 
of  which  we  hear,  easy  divorce  is  a  good  prescription.  God  some- 
times authorizes  divorce  as  certainly  as  he  authorizes  marriage.  I 
have  just  as  much  regard  for  one  lawfully  divorced  as  I  have  for  one 
lawfully  married.  But  all  of  us  know  that  wholesale  divorce  is  one  of  our 
national  scourges  ;  nor  am  I  surprised  that  it  is  so  when  I  think  of  the  in- 
fluences which  have  been  abroad  militating  against  the  marriage  relation. 
Frequency  of  divorce  always  goes  along  with  dissoluteness  of 
society.  Rome,  for  five  hundred  years,  had  not  one  case  of  divorce. 
These  were  her  days  of  glory  and  virtue.  Then  the  reign  of  vice 
began,  and  divorce  became  epidemic.  If  you  want  to  know  how  rap- 
idly the  Empire  went  down,  ask  Gibbon.  Do  you  know  how  the 
Reign  of  Terror  was  introduced  in  France?  By  20,000  cases  of  di- 
vorce in  one  year  in  Paris.  What  we  want  in  this  country,  and  in  all 
lands,  is  that  divorce  be  made  more,  and  more,  and  more  difficult. 
,  Then  people,  before  they  enter  the  marriage  relation,  will  be  persuaded 
1  that  there  will  probably  be  no  escape  from  it,  except  through  the  door 
of  the  sepulcher.  Then  they  will  pause  on  the  verge  of  that  relation, 
until  they  are  fully  satisfied  that  it  is  best,  and  that  it  is  right,  and  that 
it  is  happiest.  Then  we  shall  have  no  more  marriage  in  fun.  Then 

253 


<  NATIONAL  EVILS. 

men  and  women  will  not  enter  the  relation  with  the  idea  that  it  is  only 
a  trial  trip,  and  if  they  do  not  like  it  they  can  get  out  at  the  first-land- 
ing. Then  this  whole  question  will  be  taken  out  of  the  frivolous  into 
the  tremendous,  and  there  will  be  no  more  joking  about  the  blossoms 
in  a  bride's  hair  than  about  the  cypress  on  a  coffin. 

UNIFORM    DIVORCE   LAW. 

What  we  want  is  that  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  shall 
move  for  changing  the  national  Constitution,  so  that  a  law  can  be 
passed  which  will  be  uniform  all  over  the  country,  until  what  is  right 
in  one  State  will  be  right  in  all  the  States,  and  what  is  wrong  in  one 
State  will  be  wrong  in  all  the  States. 

Rigorous  divorce  law  will  hinder  women  from  the  fatal  mistake  of 
marrying  men  to  reform  them.  If  a  young  man  at  twenty  five  or  thirty 
years  of  age  has  the  habit  of  strong  drink  fixed  on  him,  he  is  as  cer- 
tainly bound  for  a  drunkard's  grave  as  that  the  train  starting  out  from 
the  Grand  Central  Depot  at  8  o'clock  to-morrow  morning  is  bound  for 
Albany.  The  train  may  not  reach  Albany,  for  it  may  be  thrown  from 
the  track.  The  young  man  may  not  reach  a  drunkard's  grave,  fji 
something  may  throw  him  off"  the  iron  track  of  evil  habit.  But  th- 
probability  is  that  the  train  that  starts  to-morrow  morning  at  8  o'clcx 
for  Albany  will  get  there ;  and  the  probability  is  that  the  young  man 
who  has  the  habit  of  strong  drink  fixed  on  him  before  he  reaches 
twenty-five  or  thirty  years  of  age,  will  arrive  at  a  drunkard's  grave. 
She  knows  he  drinks,  although  he  tries  to  hide  it  by  chewing  cloves. 
Everybody  knows  he  drinks.  Parents  warn,  neighbors  and  friends 
warn.  She  will  marry  him — she  will  reform  him. 

If  she  is  unsuccessful  in  the  experiment,  why  then  the  divorce  law 
will  emancipate  her,  because  habitual  drunkenness  is  a  cause  for  divorce 
in  Indiana,  Kentucky,  Florida,  Connecticut,  and  nearly  all  the  States. 
So  the  poor  thing  goes  to  the  altar  of  sacrifice.  If  you  will  show  me 
the  poverty-struck  streets  in  any  city,  I  will  show  you  the  homes  of  the 
women  who  married  men  to  reform  them.  In  one  case  out  of  ten 
thousand  it  may  be  a  successful  experiment.  I  never  saw  the  success 
ful  experiment. 

Having  read  much  about  love  in  a  cottage,  people  brought  up  in 
ease  will  go  and  starve  in  a  hovel.  Runaway  matches  and  elopements, 
999  out  of  1000  of  which  mean  death  and  hell,  are  multiplying  on  all 
hands.  You  see  them  in  every  clay's  newspapers.  Our  ministers  in 


NATIONAL  EVILS.  255 

this  region  have  .no  defense,  such  as  they  have  in  other  cities  where  the 
bans  must  be  previously  published  and  an  officer  of  the  law  must  give 
a  certificate  that  all  is  right ;  so  clergymen  are  left  defenseless,  and 
unite  those  who  ought  never  to  be  united.  Perhaps  they  are  too 
young,  or  perhaps  they  are  standing  already  in  some  domestic  compact. 
By  the  wreck  of  ten  thousand  homes,  by  the  holocaust  of  ten 
housand  sacrificed  men  and  women,  by  the  hearthstone  of  the  family, 
ahich  is  the  corner-stone  of  the  state,  and  in  the  name  of  that  God 
who  hath  set  up  the  family  institution  and  who  hath  made  the  breaking 
of  the  marital  oath  the  most  appalling  of  all  perjuries,  I  implore  the 
Congress  of  the  United  States  to  make  some  righteous,  uniform  law 
for  all  the  States,  and  from  ocean  to  ocean,  on  this  subject  of  marriage 
and  divorce.  Let  us  have  a  divine  rage  against  anything  that  wars  on 
the  marriage  state.  Blessed  institution  !  Instead  of  two  arms  to  fight 
the  battle  of  life,  four.  Instead  of  two  eyes  to  scrutinize  the  path  of 
life,  four.  Instead  of  two  shoulders  to  lift  the  burden  of  life,  four. 
Twice  the  energy,  twice  the  courage,  twice  the  holy  ambition,  twice  the 
probability  of  worldly  success,  twice  the  prospects  of  heaven. 

THE    SHAME    OF    POLYGAMY. 

And  while  on  this  subject,  let  us  turn  to  one  of  its  most  frightful 
outgrowths,  the  shameful  monstrosity  of  Mormon  polygamy. 

Are  we  so  cowardly  and  selfish  in  this  generation  that  we  are 
going  to  bequeath  to  the  following  generations  this  great  evil  ?  Shall 
we  let  it  go  on  until  our  children  come  to  the  front  and  we  are  safely 
entrenched  under  the  mound  of  our  own  sepulchers,  leaving  them 
through  all  their  active  life  to  wonder  why  we  postponed  this  evil  for 
them  to  extirpate,  when  we  might  have  destroyed  it  with  a  hundred- 
fold less  exposure  ?  What  a  legacy  for  this  generation  to  leave  to  the 
following  generation  !  A  vast  acreage  of  sweltering  putrefaction,  of 
lowest  beastliness,  of  suffocating  stench,  all  the  time  becoming  more 
and  more  mal-odorous  and  rotten  and  damnable  ! 

We  want  some  great  political  party,  in  some  strong  and  unmis- 
takable plank,  to  declare  that  it  will  extirpate  heroically  and  immedi- 
ately this  great  harem  of  the  American  continent.  We  want  some 
1  resident  of  the  United  States  to  come  in  on  such  an  anti-Mormonistic 
platform,  and  in  his  opening  message  to  Congress  to  ask  for  an 
appropriation  for  a  military  expedition,  and  then  to  put  some  Phil 
Sheridan  in  his  lightning  stirrups,  heading  his  horse  westward,  and  in 


,S6  NATIONAL  EVILS. 

one  year  Mormon  sm  will  be  extirpated  and  national  decency  vindicated 
Compelling  Mormonistic  chiefs  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  will  not 
do  it,  for  they  have  declared  in  open  assembly  that  perjury  in  their  cause 
is  commendable.  Religious  tracts  on  purity  amount  to  nothing.  They 
will  not  read  them.  Anything  shorter  than  bayonets  and  anything 
softer  than  bullets  will  never  do  that  work. 

Every  day  you  open  a  paper  you  read  of  some  bigamist  in  the 
State  of  New  York  being  arrested  and  punished.  What  you  prohibit 
on  a  small  scale  for  a  state  you  allow  on  a  large  scale  for  a  nation. 
Bigamy  must  be  put  down — polygamy  must  go  free  !  What  has  been 
the  effect  of  such  a  policy  ?  It  has  demoralized  this  whole  nation. 
That  carbuncle  on  the  back  of  the  nation  has  infected  all  the  nerves, 
and  muscles,  and  arteries,  and  veins,  and  limbs  of  the  body  politic.  I 
account  in  that  way  for  many  of  the  loose  ideas  abroad  on  the  subject 
of  the  marriage  relation.  Divorce  by  the  wholesale  !  Concubinage  in 
high  circles  !  Libertinism,  if  gloved  and  patent-leathered,  admitted 
into  high  life  !  The  malaria  of  Salt  Lake  City  has  smitten  the  nation 
with  a  moral  typhoid.  Its  bad  influence  has  well-nigh  spiked  that  gun 
of  Sinai  which  needs  to  thunder  over  the  New  England  hills,  over  the 

o 

savannahs  of  the  South,  and  over  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  Sierra 
Nevadas  clear  to  the  Pacific  coast,  "  Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery  !" 
Yet  I  want  the  people  of  America  to  know  that  for  more  than 
twenty  years  we  have  had  a  positive  law  prohibiting  polygamy  in  the 
Territories.  People  are  crying  out  for  some  new  law,  as  though  we 
had  not  an  old  law  already  with  which  that  infamy  could  be  swept  into 
the  perdition  from  which  it  smoked  up.  Polygamy  in  Utah  has  warred 
against  the  marriage  relation  throughout  the  land.  It  is  impossible  to 
have  such  an  awful  sewer  of  iniquity  sending  up  its  miasma,  which  is 
wafted  by  the  winds  north,  south,  east,  and  west,  without  the  whole  land 
being  affected  by  it. 

THE    REIGN    OF    LIBERTINISM. 

Another  evil  threatening  the  destruction  of  our  American  institu- 
tions is  the  low  state  of  public  morals.  What  killed  Babylon  ?  What 
killed  Phcenicia  ?  What  killed  Rome  ?  Their  own  depravity  ;  and  the 
fraud  and  the  drunkenness  and  the  lechery  which  have  destroyed  other 
nations  will  destroy  ours,  unless  a  merciful  God  prevent. 

I  have  to  tell  you  what  you  know  already,  that  American  politics 
have  sunken  to  such  a  low  depth  that  there  is  nothing  beneath.  What 


NATIONAL  EVILS.  »57 

we  see  in  some  directions  we  see  in  nearly  all  directions.  The  pecula- 
tion and  the  knave-ry  hurled  to  the  surface  by  the  explosion  of  banks 
and  business  firms  are  only  specimens  of  great  Cotopaxis  and  Strom- 
bolis  of  wickedness  that  boil  and  roar  and  surge  beneath,  but  have  not 
yet  regurgitated  to  the  surface.  When  the  heaven-descended  Demo- 
cratic party  enacted  the  Tweed  rascality,  it  seemed  to  eclipse  every- 
thing ;  but  after  awhile  the  heaven-descended  Republican  party  out- 
witted Pandemonium  with  the  Star  Route  infamy ! 

My  friends,  we  have  in  this  country  people  who  say  that  the  marriage 
institution  amounts  to  nothing.  They  scoff  at  it.  We  have  people 
walking  in  polite  parlors  in  our  day  who  are  not  good  enough  to  be 
scavengers  in  Sodom  !  I  went  over  to  San  Francisco  a  few  years  ago 
— that  beautiful  city,  that  Queen  of  the  Pacific.  May  the  blessing  of 
God  come  down  upon  her  great  churches,  and  her  noble  men  and 
women  !  When  I  got  into  the  city,  the  mayor  and  the  president  of  the 
Board  of  Health  called  on  me  and  insisted  that  I  should  go  and  see  the 
Chinese  quarters — no  doubt,  so  that  on  my  return  to  the  Atlantic  coast 
I  might  tell  what  dreadful  people  the  Chinese  are.  But  on  the  last 
night  of  my  stay  in  San  Francisco,  before  thousands  of  people  in  their 
great  opera  house,  I  said,  "  Would  you  like  me  to  tell  you  just  what  I 
think,  plainly  and  honestly?"  They  said,  "Yes,  yes,  yes!"  I  said, 
"  Do  you  think  you  can  stand  it  all?"  They  said,  "  Yes,  yes,  yes  !" 
"Then,"  I  said,  "  my  opinion  is  that  the  curse  of  San  Francisco  is  not 
your  Chinese  quarters,  but  your  millionaire  libertines  !"  And  two  of 
them  sat  right  before  me — Felix  and  Drusilla. 

So  it  is  in  all  the  cities.  I  never  swear ;  but  when  I  see  a  man  go 
unwhipt  of  justice,  laughing  over  his  shame,  and  calling  his  damnable 
deeds  gallantry  and  peccadillo,  I  am  tempted  to  hurl  at  him  red-hot 
anathema,  and  to  conclude  that  if,  according  to  some  people's  theology, 
there  is  no  hell,  there  ought  to  be !  There  is  enough  out-and-out 
licentiousness  in  American  cities  to-day  to  bring  down  upon  them  the 
wrath  of  that  God  who,  on  the  24th  of  August,  79,  buried  Hercu- 
laneum  and  Pompeii  so  deep  in  ashes  that  the  eighteen  subsequent 
centuries  have  not  been  able  to  complete  the  exhumation. 

THE   CLUB-HOUSE. 

Not  least  among  the  evils  that  threaten  our  nation  is  the  club- 
house. Let  us  enter  one  of  these  advance  posts  of  the  army  of  Satan. 

17 


«58  NATIONAL  EVILS. 

You  open  the  door,  and  the  fumes  of  strong  drink  and  tobacco  are 
something  almost  intolerable.  You  do  not  have  to  ask  what  those 
young  men  are  doing,  for  you  can  see,  by  the  flushed  cheek  and  intent 
look  and  almost  angry  way  of  tossing  the  dice  and  dropping  the  chips, 
that  they  are  gambling. 

That  is  an  only  son  seated  there  at  another  table.  He  has  had  all 
art,  all  culture,  all  refinement,  showered  upon  him  by  his  parents.  This 
is  the  way  he  is  paying  them  for  their  kindness.  That  is  a  young  mar- 
ried man.  A  few  months  ago,  he  made  promises  of  fidelity  and  kind- 
ness, every  one  of  which  he  has  broken.  Around  a  table  in  the  club- 
house there  is  a  group  telling  vile  stories.  It  is  getting  late  now,  and 
three-fourths  of  the  members  of  the  club  are  intoxicated.  It  is  between 
twelve  and  one  o'clock,  and  after  a  while  it  will  be  time  to  shut  up. 
The  conversation  has  got  to  be  groveling,  base,  filthy,  outrageous. 

It  is  time  to  shut  up.  The  young  men  saunter  forth — those  who 
can  walk — and  balance  themselves  against  the  lamp-post  or  the  fence. 
A  young  man  not  able  to  get  out  has  a  couch  extemporized  for  him  in 
the  club-house,  or  is  led  to  his  father's  house  by  two  comrades  not  quite  so 
overcome  by  strong  drink.  The  door-bell  is  rung,  the  door  opens,  and 
these  two  imbecile  escorts  usher  into  the  front  hall  the  ghastliest  thing 
ever  ushered  into  a  father's  house — a  drunken  son  !  There  are  dissi- 
pating club-houses  which  would  do  well  if  they  could  make  a  contract 
with  Inferno  to  furnish  ten  thousand  men  a  year,  and  do  that  for  twenty 
years,  on  the  condition  that  no  more  would  be  asked  of  them.  They 
would  save  hundreds  of  homesteads,  and  bodies,  minds,  and  souls 
innumerable.  The  ten  thousand  they  furnish  a  year,  by  contract,  would 
be  small  when  compared  with  the  vaster  multitudes  they  furnish  with- 
out contract.  Yet  let  it  not  be  understood  that  I  condemn  all  club- 
houses. I  make  a  vast  difference  between  the  club-houses.  I  have 
during  my  life  belonged  to  four  clubs — a  base-ball  club,  a  theological 
iclub,  and  two  literary  clubs.  They  were  to  me  physical  recuperation, 
mental  food,  moral  health. 

The  influence  which  some  of  the  club-houses  are  exerting  is  the 
more  to  be  deplored  because  it  takes  down  the  very  best  men.  The 
admission  fee  sifts  out  the  penurious,  and  leaves  only  the  best  fellows. 
They  are  frank,  they  are  generous,  they  are  whole-souled,  they  are 
talented.  Oh,  I  begrudge  the  devil  such  a  prize  !  After  a  while  the 
frank  look  will  go  out  of  the  face,  and  the  features  will  be  haggard, 


259 


260 


NATIONAL  EVILS.  261 

and  when  talking-  to  you,  instead  of  looking-  you  in  the  eye,  they  wfll 
look  down,  and  every  morning  the  mother  will  kindly  ask,  "  My  son, 
what  kept  you  out  so  late  last  night  ?"  and  he  will  make  no  answer,  or 
he  will  say,  "  That's  my  business."  Then  some  time  he  will  come  to 
the  store  or  the  bank  cross  and  befogged,  and  he  will  neglect  some 
duty,  and  after  a  while  he  will  lose  his  place,  and  then,  with  nothing-  to 
do,  he  •will  come  down  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  curse  the  ser- 
vant because  the  breakfast  is  cold.  The  lad  who  was  a  clerk  in  the 
cellar  has  got  to  be  chief  clerk  in  the  great  commercial  establishment ; 
the  young  man  who  ran  errands  for  the  bank  has  got  to  be  cashier; 
thousands  of  the  young  men  who  were  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder  have 
got  to  the  top  of  the  ladder ;  but  here  goes  the  victim  of  the  dissipat- 
ing club-house,  with  staggering  step  and  bloodshot  eye  and  mud-spat- 
tered hat  set  sidewise  on  a  shock  of  greasy  hair,  his  cravat  dashed  with 
cigar  ashes.  Look  at  him  !  Pure-hearted  young  man,  look  at  him ! 
The  club-house  did  that ! 

The  revolving  Drummond  light  in  front  of  a  hotel,  the  signal  light 
in  front  of  a  locomotive,  may  flash  this  way,  and  flash  that,  upon  the 
mountains,  upon  the  ravines,  upon  the  city ;  but  I  take  the  lamp  of 
God's  eternal  truth,  and  I  flash  it  upon  all  the  club-houses  of  these 
cities,  so  that  no  young  man  shall  be  deceived.  Oh,  leave  the  dissi- 
pating influences  of  the  club-room,  if  the  influences  of  your  club-room 
are  dissipating !  Paid  your  money,  have  you  ?  Better  sacrifice  that 
than  your  soul.  Good  fellows,  are  they  ?  Under  that  process  they 
will  not  remain  such.  Tufts  of  osier  and  birch  grow  on  the  hot  lips  of 
volcanic  Sneehaettan  ;  but  a  pure  heart  and  an  honest  life  thrive  in  a 
dissipating  club-house — never  ! 

The  way  to  conquer  a  wild  beast  is  to  keep  your  eye  on  him,  but 
the  way  for  you  to  conquer  your  temptations,  my  friend,  is  to  turn  your 
back  on  them  and  fly  for  your  Kfe.  Oh,  my  heart  aches !  I  see  men 
struggling  against  evil  habits,  and  they  want  help.  I  have  knelt  beside 
such  a  man,  and  I  have  heard  him  cry  for  help  ;  and  then  we  have  risen, 
and  he  has  put  one  hand  on  my  right  shoulder,  and  the  other  hand  on 
my  left  shoulder,  and  looked  into  my  face  with  an  infinity  of  earnest- 
ness which  the  judgment  day  will  have  no  power  to  make  me  forget. 
as  he  has  cried  out  with  his  lips  scorched  in  ruin,  "  God  help  me  !** 
For  such  there  is  no  help  except  in  the  Lord  God  Almighty. 


GLORIOUS  OLD  AGE. 


BLESSED  is  old  age,  if  you  let  it  come  naturally.  You  cannot 
hide  it.  You  may  try  to  cover  the  wrinkles,  but  you  cannot 

cover  the  wrinkles.  If  the  time  has  come,  for  you  to  be  old,  be  not 
ashamed  to  be  old.  The  grandest  things  in  all  the  universe  are  old 
—old  mountains,  old  rivers,  old  seas,  old  stars,  and  an  old  eternity. 
Then  do  not  be  ashamed  to  be  old,  unless  you  are  older  than  the  moun- 
tains, and  older  than  the  stars. 

How  men  and  women  will  lie  !  They  say  that  they  are  forty,  but 
they  are  sixty.  They  say  that  they  are  twenty,  but  they  are  thirty. 
They  say  that  they  are  sixty,  but  they  are  eighty.  How  some  people 
will  lie  ! 

Glorious  old  age,  if  it  be  found  in  the  way  of  righteousness  !  How 
beautiful  was  the  old  age  of  Jacob,  leaning  on  the  top  of  his  staff;  of  John 
Quincy  Adams,  falling  with  the  harness  on  ;  of  Washington  Irving, 
sitting,  pen  in  hand,  amid  the  scenes  himself  had  made  classical ;  of  John 
Angell  James,  to  the  last  proclaiming  the  Gospel  to  the  masses  of 
Birmingham  ;  of  Theodore  Frelinghuysen,  down  to  feebleness  and  ema- 
ciation devoting  his  illustrious  faculties  to  the  kingdom  of  God  !  At 
eventime  it  was  light ! 

THE    ALMOND-TREE     BLOOM. 

Solomon  gives  us  a  full-length  portrait  of  an  aged  man.  By  strik- 
ing figures  of  speech,  he  sets  forth  his  trembling  and  decrepitude,  and 
then  comes  to  describe  the  whiteness  of  his  locks  by  the  blossoming  of 
the  almond-tree.  It  is  the  master-touch  of  the  picture,  for  I  see  in  that 
one  sentence  not  only  the  appearance  of  the  hair,  but  an  announcement 
of  the  beauty  of  old  age.  The  white  locks  of  a  bad  man  are  but  the 
gathered  frosts  of  the  second  death,  but  "a  hoary  head  is  a  crown  of 


GLORIOUS  OLD  AGE.  **>$ 

glory"  if  it  be  found  in  the  way  of  righteousness.  There  may  be  no 
color  in  the  cheek,  no  lustre  in  the  eye,  no  spring  in  the  step,  no  firm- 
ness in  the  voice,  and  yet  around  the  head  of  every  old  man  whose  life 
has  been  upright  and  Christian  there  hovers  a  glory  brighter  than  ever 
bloomed  in  the  white  tops  of  the  almond-tree.  If  the  voice  quiver,  it  is 
because  God  is  changing  it  into  a  tone  fit  for  the  celestial  choral.  If 
the  back  stoop,  it  is  only  because  the  body  is  just  about  to  lie  down  in 
peaceful  sleep.  If  the  hand  tremble,  it  is  because  God  is  unloosing  it 
from  worldly  disappointments  to  clasp  it  on  ringing  harp  and  waving 
palm.  If  the  hair  has  turned,  it  is  only  the  gray  light  of  heaven's  dawn 
streaming  through  the  scant  locks.  If  the  brow,  once  adorned  by  a  lux- 
uriance of  auburn  or  raven,  is  smitten  with  baldness,  it  is  only  because 
God  is  preparing  a  place  to  set  the  everlasting  crown. 

THE    OLD    FOLKS. 

Blessed  is  the  home  where  Christian  parents  come  to  visit.  What- 
ever may  have  been  the  style  of  the  architecture  when  they  come,  it  is 
a  palace  before  they  leave.  If  they  visit  you  fifty  times,  the  two 
most  memorable  visits  will  be  the  first  and  the  last.  Those  two  pict- 
ures will  hang  in  the  hall  of  your  memory  while  memory  lasts, 
and  you  will  remember  just  how  they  looked,  and  where  they  sat, 
and  what  they  said,  and  at  what  doorsill  they  parted  with  you,  giving  you 
the  final  good-bye.  Do  not  be  embarrassed  if  your  father  come  to  town 
and  have  the  manners  of  the  shepherd,  and  if  your  mother  come  to  town 
and  there  be  in  her  hat  no  sign  of  costly  millinery.  The  wife  of  Em- 
peror Theodosius  said  a  wise  thing  when  she  said,  "  Husband,  remem- 
ber what  you  lately  were,  and  remember  what  you  are,  and  be 
thankful."  ' 

"What  a  nuisance  it  is  to  have  poor  relations  !"  Joseph  did  not 
say  that,  but  he  rushed  out  to  meet  his  father  with  perfect  abandon  of 
affection  and  brought  him  up  to  the  palace,  and  introduced  him  to  the 
monarch,  and  provided  for  all  the  rest  of  his  father's  days,  and  nothing 
was  too  good  for  the  old  man  while  living ;  and  when  he  was  dead, 
Joseph,  with  military  escort,  took  his  father's  remains  to  the  family 
cemetery  at  Machpelah,  and  put  them  down  beside  Rachel,  Joseph's 
mother.  Would  God  all  children  were  as  kind  to  their  parents  ! 

If  the  father  have  large  property,  and  he  be  wise  enough  to  keep 
it  in  his  own  name,  he  will  be  respected  by  the  heirs  ;  but  how  often  it 


264 


GLORIOUS  OLD  AGE. 


happens,  when  the  son  finds  his  father  in  famine,  as  Joseph  found  Jacob 
in  famine,  that  the  young  people  make  it  very  hard  for  the  old  man. 
They  are  so  surprised  that  he  eats  with  a  knife  instead  of  a  fork  ! 
They  are  chagrined  at  his  antediluvian  habits.  They  are  provoked 
because  be  cannot  hear  as  well  as  he  used  to  ;  and  when  he 
asks  it  over  again,  and  the  son  has  to  repeat  it,  he  bawls  in  the  old 
man's  ear,  "  I  hope  you  hear  that  /"  How  long  he  must  wear  the  old 
coat  or  the  old  hat  before  they  get  him  a  new  one  !  How  chagrined 


SORROWFUL  OLD  AGE. 

they  are  at  his  independence  of  the  English  grammar  !  How  long  he 
hangs  on  !  Seventy  years  and  not  gone  yet  !  Seventy-five  years  and 
not  gone  yet  !  Eighty  years  and  not  gone  yet  !  Will  he  ever  go  ?  They 
think  it  of  no  use  to  have  a  doctor  in  his  last  sickness,  and  so  they  go  up 
to  the  drug-store  and  get  a  dose  of  something  that  makes  him  worse  ; 
and  they  economize  on  a  coffin,  and  beat  the  undertaker  down  to  the 
last  point,  giving  a  note  for  the  reduced  amount,  which  they  never  pay  ! 


FRCX'D    younc*    mother,    in    tKe    glow 
Of     life's     glad     morning,    lonp 

was    her    happy     ta.sk     to    guide 
His    childish     steps    when,   side     by     side, 

Along     A   sunlit"    path     they    walked. 
His    .small    hand    .clasped    in,    hers,  and     talked 
With    Joyous    tones,    and     lauoKter     'i§ht, 
/Nmid    a    world     of     beauty 


plow,  bent     beneath     the    \A«eight     of 

One    leans     upon    his    arm,   and     hear*. 

The    deep,  stern    voice    his    comrades     know, 
Opcaking     in    accents    soft     and    low, 
while,   with    erect    and    manly    air, 
A    noble    son,v/ith    loving    care 

Me    guides    her   feeble    steps,  whose    day 
Of     life    is    fading     fast    away  ' 


\Vith   grateful  heart    he   dwells    upon 
The    gracious   time,  forever    gone, 
The    hours    she    watched    and    tended    him  ' 
And    now    her    eyes    are    6rowin6  dim, 
And    strength    -is    failing,    he    will    guide 
Her    feeble    steps    with  -tender    pride 

Counting     her    love    of    higher   worth 
Thdn    dny    prize    he 
on    earth 


GRANDMOTHER'S   THOUGHTS 


266 


GLORIOUS  OLD  AGE,  267 

I  have  officiated  at  obsequies  of  aged  people  where  the  family  have 
been  so  inordinately  resigned  to  the  Providence  that  I  felt  like  taking 
my  text  from  Proverbs  :  "The  eye  that  mocketh  at  its  father,  and  re- 
fuseth  to  obey  its  mother,  the  ravens  of  the  valley  shall  pick  it  out,  and 
the  young  eagles  shall  eat  it."  In  other  words,  such  an  ingrate  ought 
to  have  a  flock  of  crows  for  pall-bearers  !  I  congratulate  you  if  you 
have  the  honor  of  providing  for  aged  parents.  The  blessing  of  the 
Lord  God  of  Joseph  and  Jacob  will  be  on  you. 

As  if  to  disgust  us  with  unfilial  conduct,  the  Bible  presents  us  the 
story  of  Micah,  who  stole  the  eleven  hundred  shekels  from  his  mother, 
and  the  story  of  Absalom,  who  tried  to  dethrone  his  father.  But  all 
history  is  beautiful  with  stories  of  filial  fidelity.  Epaminondas,  the 
warrior,  found  !ns  chief  delight  in  reciting  to  his  parents  the  story  of 
his  victories,  There  goes  /Eneas  from  burning  Troy,  and  on  his 
shoulders  Anchises,  his  father.  There  goes  beautiful  Ruth  escorting 
venerable  Naomi  across  the  desert,  amid  the  howling  of  the  wolves 
and  the  barking  of  the  jackals  John  Lawrence,  burned  at  the  stake 
in  Colchester,  was  cheered  in  the  flames  by  his  children,  who  said, 
"  O  God,  strengthen  thy  servant,  and  keep  thy  promise  !  "  And  Christ, 
in  the  hour  of  excruciation,  provided  for  his  old  mother.  Jacob  kept 
his  resolution — "I  will  go  and  see  him  before  I  die" — and  a  little  while 
after,  we  find  them  walking  the  tessellated  floor  of  the  palace,  Jacob 
and  Joseph,  the  prime-minister  proud  of  the  shepherd  ! 

MY    FATHER. 

Through  how  many  thrilling  scenes  he  had  passed !  He  stood, 
at  Morristown,  in  the  choir  that  chanted  when  George  Washington 
was  buried  ;  talked  with  young  men  whose  grandfathers  he  had  held 
on  his  knee  ;  watched  the  progress  of  John  Adams's  administration  ; 
denounced  at  the  time  Aaron  Burr's  infamy ;  heard  the  guns  that  cele- 
brated the  New  Orleans  victory;  voted  against  Jackson,  but  lived 
long  enough  to  wish  we  had  one  just  like  him  ;  remembered  when 
the  first  steamer  struck  the  North  River  with  its  wheel-buckets  ;  flushed 
with  excitement  in  the  time  of  National  Banks  and  Sub-Treasury;  was 
startled  at  the  birth  of  telegraphy  ;  saw  the  United  States  grow  from 
a  speck  on  the  world's  map  till  all  nations  dipped  their  flag  at  our 
passing  merchantmen,  and  our  "national  airs"  were  heard  on  the  steeps 
of  the  Himalayas  ;  was  born  while  the  Revolutionary  cannon  were 


"  My  days  pass  pleasantly  away 
My  nights  are  blessed  with  sweetest  sleep; 
I  feel  no  symptoms  of  decay, 
[  have  no  cause  to  mourn  or  weep; 
26? 


My  foes  are  impotent  and  shy, 

My  friends  are  neither  false  nor  cold ; 

And  yet,  of  late,  I  often  sigh: 

'  I'm  growing  old.'  * 


GLORIOUS  OLD  AGE.  269 

coming  home  from  Yorktown,  and  lived  to  hear  the  tramp  of  troops 
returning  from  the  war  of  the  great  Rebellion  ;  lived  to  speak  the 
names  of  eighty  children,  grandchildren,  and  great-grandchildren. 
Nearly  all  his  contemporaries  were  gone.  Aged  Wilberforce  said 
that  sailors  drink  to  "friends  astern"  until  half  way  over  the  sea, 
and  then  drink  to  "friends  ahead."  With  him  it  had  for  a  long  time 
been  "friends  ahead."  So  also  with  my  father.  Long  and  varied  pil- 
grimage !  Nothing  but  sovereign  grace  could  have  kept  him  true, 
earnest,  useful  and  Christian  through  so  many  exciting  scenes. 

HIS    TEMPERANCE    PRINCIPLES. 

If  there  was  a  bright  side  to  anything,  my  father  always  saw  it. 
His  name  was  a  synonym  for  exhilaration  of  spirit.  Some  might 
ascribe  this  cheerfulness  to  natural  disposition.  No  doubt  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  sunshine  of  temperament.  But  constitutional  struct- 
ure certainly  had  much  to  do  with  it.  He  had,  by  a  life  of  sobriety, 
preserved  his  freshness  and  vigor.  You  know  that  good  habits  are 
better  than  speaking-tubes  to  the  ear  ;  better  than  a  staff  to  the  hand ; 
better  than  lozenges  to  the  throat  ;  better  than  warm  baths  to  the 
feet;  better  than  bitters  for  the  stomach.  His  lips  had  not  been 
polluted  nor  his  brain  befogged  by  the  fumes  of  the  noxious  weed 
that  has  sapped  the  life  of  whole  generations,  sending  even  ministers 
of  the  gospel  to  untimely  graves,  over  which  the  tombstone  declared, 
"Sacrificed  by  overwork  in  the  Lord's  vineyard,"  when,  if  the  marble 
had  not  lied,  it  would  have  said,  "Killed  by  villainous  tobacco!" 
He  abhorred  anything  that  could  intoxicate,  being  among  the  first  in 
this  country  to  join  the  crusade  against  alcoholic  beverage.  When 
urged,  during  a  severe  sickness,  to  take  some  stimulus,  he  said,  "No; 
if  I  am  to  die,  let  me  die  sober ! "  The  swill  of  the  brewery  had 
never  been  poured  around  the  roots  of  this  thrifty  almond.  To  the 
last  week  of  his  life  his  ear  could  catch  a  child's  whisper,  and  at  four 
score  years  his  eyes  refused  spectacles,  although  he  would  sometimes 
have  to  hold  the  book  off  on  the  other  side  of  the  light,  as  octogena- 
rians are  wont  to  do.  No  trembling  of  the  hands,  no  rheum  in  the 
eyes,  no  knocking  together  of  the  knees,  no  hobbling  on  crutches 
with  what  polite  society  terms  rheumatism  in  the  feet,  but  what  every- 
body knows  is  nothing  but  gout.  Death  came,  not  to  fell  the  gnarled 
trunk  of  a  tree  worm-eaten  and  lightning-blasted,  but  to  hew  down  a 


ajo  GL  OR  TO  US  OLD  AGE. 

Lebanon  cedar,  which  made   the   mountains  tremble  and  the  heavens 
ring/ 

EARLY    STRUGGLES. 

My  father  started  in  life  belonging  to  the  aristocracy  of  hard 
knuckles  and  homespun,  but  had  this  high  honor  that  no  one  could 
despise  ;  he  was  the  son  of  a  father  who  loved  God  and  kept  his 
commandments.  What  is  the  house  of  Hapsburg,  or  Stuart,  com- 
I  )ared  with  the  honor  of  being  a  son  of  the  Lord  God  Almighty  ?  Two 
I  eyes,  two  hands,  and  two  feet  were  the  capital  my  father  started  with. 
For  fifteen  years  an  invalid,  he  had  a  fearful  struggle  to  support  his 
large  family.  -  Nothing  but  faith  in  God  upheld  him.  His  recital  of 
help  afforded  and  deliverances  wrought  was  more  like  a  romance  than 
a  reality.  He  walked  through  many  a  desert,  but  every  morning  had 
its  manni,  and  every  night  its  pillar  of  fire,  and  every  hard  rock  a  rod 
that  could  shatter  it  into  crystal  fountains  at  his  feet.  More  than  once 
he  came  to  his  last  dollar,  but  right  behind  that  last  dollar  he  found 
Him  who  owns  the  cattle  on  a  thousand  hills,  and  out  of  the  palm  of 
whose  hand  all  the  fowls  of  heaven  peck  their  food,  and  who  hath  given 
to  each  one  of  his  disciples  a  warrantee  deed  for  the  whole  universe  in 
the  words,  "ALL  ARE  YOURS." 

He  worked  unweariedly  from  the  sunrise  of  youth  to  the  sunset 
of  old  age,  and  then,  in  the  sweet  nightfall  of  death,  lighted  by  the 
starry  promises,  went  home,  taking  his  sheaves  with  him.  Mounting 
from  earthly  to  heavenly  service,  I  doubt  not  there  were  a  great  multi- 
tude that  thronged  heaven's  gate  to  hail  him  into  the  skies — those 
whose  sorrows  he  had  appeased,  whose  burdens  he  had  lifted,  whose 
guilty  souls  he  had  pointed  to  a  pardoning  God,  whose  dying  moments 
he  had  cheered,  whose  ascending  spirits  he  had  helped  up  on  the  wings 
of  sacred  music.  I  should  like  to  have  heard  that  long,  loud,  trium- 
phant shout  of  heaven's  welcome.  I  think  that  the  harps  throbbed 
with  another  thrill,  and  the  hills  quaked  with  a  mightier  hallelujah. 
I  Hail,  ransomed  soul!  Thy  race  run — thy  toil  ended.  Hail  to  the 
coronation  ! 

CLOSING    SCENE. 

On  the  morning  of  the  27th  of  October — just  three  years  from 
the  day  when  the  soul  of  his  companion  sped  into  the  heavens — it  was 
evident  that  the  last  moment  had  come.  Softly  the  news  came  to  all 


GLORIOUS  OLD  AGE.  271 

the  sleepers  in  the  house,  and  the  quick  glance  of  lights  from  room  to 
room  signaled  the  coming  of  the  death-angel.  We  took  out  our 
watches,  and  said,  "Four  o'clock  and  fifteen  minutes!"  The  pulse 
fluttered  as  a  tree-branch  lifts  and  falls  at  the  motion  of  a  bird's  wing 
about  to  cleave  its  way  into  the  heavens.  No  quick  start  of  pain  ;  no 
glassy  stare  ;  but  eyelid  lightly  closed,  and  calm  lip,  and  white  blos- 
soms of  the  almond-tree.  From  the  stand  we  turned  over  the  old 
timepiece  that  he  had  carried  so  long,  and  which  he  thought  always 
went  right,  and  announced,  "  Jiist  four  d clock  and  twenty  minutes  /" 
The  tides  of  the  cold  river  rising.  Felt  of  the  wrist,  but  no  pulse  ;  of 
the  temples,  but  no  stir ;  of  the  heart,  but  no  action.  We  listened, 
but  heard  nothing.  Still !  still !  The  gates  of  the  earthly  prison-house 
silently  open  wider  and  wider.  Clear  the  way  for  the  conquering 
spirit!  "Four  o  clock  and  thirty  minutes!"  Without  a  groan  or  a 
sigh,  he  had  passed  upward  into  the  light.  "And  when  Jacob  had 
made  an  end  of  commanding  his  sons,  he  gathered  up  his  feet  into  the 
bed,  and  yielded  up  the  ghost,  and  was  gathered  unto  his  people." 

"  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 

Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are, 
While  on  his  breast  I  lean  my  head, 
And  breathe  my  life  out  sweetly  there." 

MY    MOTHER. 

A  deep  shadow  fell  across  the  old  homestead.  The  "golden 
wedding"  had  been  celebrated  nine  years  before.  My  mother  looked 
up,  pushed  back  her  spectacles,  and  said,  "Just  think  of  it,  father,  we 
have  been  together  fifty-nine  years  ! "  The  twain  stood  together  like 
two  trees  of  the  forest  with  interlocked  branches.  Their  affections 
had  taken  deep  root  together  in  many  a  kindred  grave.  Side  by  side 
in  life's  great  battle  they  had  fought  the  good  fight  and  won  the  day. 
But  death  comes  to  unjoint  this  alliance.  God  will  not  any  longer  let 
her  suffer  mortal  ailments.  The  reward  of  righteousness  is  ready, 
and  it  must  be  paid.  But  what  tearing  apart !  What  rending  up !  What 
will  the  aged  man  do  without  this  other  to  lean  on  ?  Who  can  so  well 
understand  how  to  sympathize  and  counsel  ?  What  voice  so  cheering 
as  hers  to  conduct  him  down  the  steep  of  old  age?  "Oh,"  she  said, 
in  her  last  moments,  "  father,  if  you  and  I  could  only  go  together,  how 
pleasant  it  would  be  !  "  But  the  hush  of  death  came  down  one  au- 
tumnal afternoon,  and  for  the  first  time  in  all  my  life,  on  my  arrival 


t?a  GLORIOUS  OLD  AGE. 

home,  I  received  no  maternal  greeting,  no  answer  of  the  lips,  no  pres- 
sure of  the  hand.     God  had  taken  her  ! 


"  An  ounce  of  mother  is  worth  a  pound  of  clergy." — Spanish  Proverb. 
"  The  mother's  heart  is  the  child's  school  room." — Henry   Ward  Beecher. 
"  The  future  destiny  of  the  child  is  always  the  work  of  the  mother." — Napoleon. 
"  Youth  fades;  love  droops;  the   leaves  of  friendship  fall ;  a  mother's  secret  hope  outlives  them  a!'." 
—  Oliver  W.  Holmes. 

There  are  words  that  speak  of  a  quenchless  love 

Which  burns  in  the  hearts  we  cherish, 
And  accents  that  tell  of  a  friendship  proved, 

That  will  never  blight  or  perish. 
There  are  soft  words  murmured  by  dear,  dear  lips, 

Far  richer  than  any  other ; 
But  the  sweetest  word  that  the  ear  hath  heard 

Is  the  blessed  name  of  Mother." — Anonymous. 


THE  BURDEN  OF  DEBT. 


THERE   is    one  word  that    has  dragged    down    more  people  into 
bankruptcy,    and   state-prison,    and  perdition,  than  any   other 
word  in  the  commercial  world,   and  that  is  the  word  "borrow" 
This  word  is  responsible  for  nearly  all  the  defalcations,  and  embezzle- 
nents,  and  financial  consternations  of  every  land  and  age.     When  an 
executor   takes  money  out  of  a   large  estate  to  speculate  with  it,  he 
does  not  purloin  it,  he  only   "borrows."     When  a  banker  makes   an 
overdraft  that  he  may  go  into  speculation,  he  does  not  commit  a  theft  ; 
he  only  "borrows."     When  the  head  of  a  large   financial  institution, 
through  flaming  advertisements  in  some  religious  paper,  or  gilt-edged 
certificate,  gets  country  people  to  put  their  money  into  some  enter- 
ise  for  carrying  on  an  undeveloped  nothing,  it  is  not  fraud  ;  he  only 
borrows."     When   a   young  man  having   easy   access  to  a  money 
drawer,  or  a  confidential  clerk  having  easy  access  to  the  books,  takes  a 
certain  amount  of  money,  and  with  it  makes   a  Wall    Street  excursion, 
ho  is  going  to  put  it  back,  he  is  going  to  put  it  all  back,  he  is  going  to 
put  it  back  pretty  soon  ;  he  only  "borrows."      What  is  needed  is  some 
one  with   giant  limb  to    stand  by    the  curbstone   at  the  foot  of  Trinity 
Church,   at  the  head  of  Wall   Street,  and  when  that  word  "borrow" 
comes  bounding  along,  kick  it  clear  to   Wall    Street  Ferry,  and   if  it 
strike  the  deck  of  the  ferry-boat  and  bound   clear  over  to  Brooklyn 
Heights  and  Brooklyn    Hill,  all    the  better  for  the  City  of  Churches. 
Why,  when  you  are  going  to  do  wrong,  need  you  pronounce  so  long 
-  word  as  the  word  "borrow" — a  word  of  six  letters — when  you  can  get 
.norter  word,  a  word  more  accurate,    a  word  more    descriptive  of 
the  reality,  a  word  of  five  letters — the  word  "  steal"? 

EXTRAVAGANCE. 

There  have    been  no  more   absorbing  questions  in  America  than 
*hese:     What   caused    "  Black  Wednesday "?     What   caused  "  Black 

18  273 


274  THE  BURDEN  OF  DEBT. 

Friday"?  What  has  caused  all  the  black  days  of  financial  disaster 
with  which  Wall  Street  has  been  connected  for  the  last  forty  years  ? 
Some  say  it  is  the  credit-system.  Something  back  of  that.  Some 
say  it  is  the  spirit  of  gambling  ever  and  anon  becoming  epi- 
demic. Something  back  of  that.  Some  say  it  is  the  sudden  shrink- 
age in  the  value  of  securities,  which  even  the  most  honest  and 
intelligent  men  could  not  have  foreseen.  Something  back  of  that. 
I  will  give  you  the  primal  cause  of  all  these  disturbances.  It  is  the 
extravagance  of  modern  society  which  impels  a  man  to  spend  more 
money  than  he  can  honestly  make.  He  goes  into  Wall  Street  in  order 
to  get  the  means  for  inordinate  display.  Sometimes  the  man  is  to 
blame,  and  sometimes  his  wife,  and  oftener  both.  An  income  of  five 
thousand  dollars,  often  thousand  dollars,  of  twenty  thousand  dollars,  is 
not  enough  for  a  man  to  keep  up  the  style  of  living  he  proposes,  and 
therefore  he  steers  his  bark  toward  the  maelstrom.  Other  men  have 
suddenly  snatched  up  fifty  or  a  hundred  thousand  dollars — why  not  he  ? 
The  present  income  of  the  man  not  being  large  enough,  he  must  move 
earth  and  hell  to  catch  up  with  his  neighbors.  Others  have  a  country 
seat — so  must  he.  Others  have  an  extravagant  caterer — so  must  he. 
Others  have  a  palatial  residence — so  must  he. 

Extravagance  is  the  cause  of  all  the  defalcations  of  the  last  forty 
years ;  and  if  you  will  go  through  the  history  of  all  the  great  panics 
and  the  great  financial  disturbances,  no  sooner  have  you  found  the 
story  of  trouble  than  right  back  of  it  you  find  the  story  of  how  many 
horses  the  man  had,  how  many  carriages  the  man  had,  how  many  resi- 
dences in  the  country  the  man  had,  how  many  banquets  the  man  gave; 
always,  and  not  one  exception,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  extravagance 
was  the  cause. 

Now  for  the  elegances  and  the  refinements  and  the  decorations  of 
life  I  cast  my  vote.  While  I  am  considering  this  subject  a  basket  of 
flowers  is  handed  in — flowers  paradisaical  in  their  beauty.  White  calla 
with  a  green  background  of  begonia.  A  cluster  of  heliotropes  nest- 
ling in  geraniums.  Sepal  and  perianth  bearing  on  them  the  marks  of 
God's  finger.  When  I  see  that  basket  of  flowers  they  persuade  me 
that  God  loves  beauty  and  adornment  and  decoration.  God  might 
have  made  the  earth  so  as  to  supply  the  gross  demands  of  sense,  but 
have  left  it  without  adornment  or  attraction.  Instead  of  the  variegated 
colors  of  the  seasons,  the  earth  might  have  worn  an  unchanging  dull 


THE  BURDEN  OF  DEBT. 


275 


brown.  The  tree  might  have  put  forth  its  fruit  without  the  prophecy 
of  leaf  or  blossom.  Niagara  might  have  come  down  in  gradual  de- 
scent without  thunder-winged  spray.  Yet  not  thus  has  God  worked. 
We  owe  to  his  foreseeing  wisdom  the  beauty  and  grandeur  which  it  is 
our  privilege  and  duty  to  admire  and  enjoy. 

Extravagance  accounts  for  the  disturbance  of  national  finances. 
Aggregations  are  made  up  of  units,  and  when  one-half  of  the  people 
of  this  country  owe  the  other  half,  how  can  we  expect  financial  pros- 
perity ?  Every  four  years  we  get  a  great  spasm  of  virtue,  and 
when  a  President  is  to  be  elected  we  say,  "Now,  down  with  the  old  ad- 
ministration, and  let  us  have  another  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  and 
let  us  have  a  new  deal  of  things,  and  then  we  will  get  over  all  our 


MODEST  FRUGALITY. 

perturbation.  "  I  do  not  care  who  is  President  or  who  is  Secretary  of 
the  Treasury,  or  how  much  breadstuffs  go  out  of  the  country,  or  how 
much  gold  is  imported,  for  until  we  learn  to  pay  our  debts,  and  it  be- 
Icomes  a  general  theory  in  this  country  that  men  must  buy  no  more 
than  they  can  pay  for,  there  will  be  no  permanent  prosperity.  Look  at 
the  pernicious  extravagance.  Take  the  one  fact  that  New  York  every 
year  pays  two  million  dollars  for  theatrical  amusements.  While  once 
in  a  while  a  Henry  Irving  or  an  Edwin  Booth  or  a  Joseph  Jefferson 
thrills  a  great  audience  with  tragedy,  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  the 
vast  majority  of  the  theatres  of  New  York  are  as  debased  as  debased 
they  can  be,  as  unclean  as  unclean  they  can  be,  and  as  damnable  as 


276  THE  BURDEN  OF  DEBT. 

damnable  they  can  be  !     Of  these  two  million  dollars  much  the  greater 
part  has  been  swallowed  up  in  a  pernicious  extravagance. 

GRAND    LARCENY. 

Extravagance  accounts  for  much  of  the  pauperism  which  afflicts 
communities.  Who  are  these  people  whom  you  have  to  help  ?  Many 
of  them  are  the  children  of  parents  who  had  plenty,  lived  in  luxury,  had 
more  than  they  needed,  spent  all  they  had — spent  more,  too — then 
died,  and  left  their  families  in  poverty.  Some  of  those  who  call  on 
you  now  for  aid  had  an  ancestry  that  supped  on  Burgundy  and  wood- 
cock. I  could  name  a  score  of  men  who  have  every  luxury.  They 
smoke  the  best  cigars,  and  they  drink  the  finest  wines,  and  they  have 
the  grandest  surroundings,  and  when  they  die  their  families  will  go 
on  the  cold  charity  of  the  world.  Now,  the  death  of  such  a  man 
is  a  grand  larceny.  He  swindles  the  world  as  he  goes  into  his 
coffin,  and  he  deserves  to  have  his  bones  sold  to  the  medical 
museum  for  anatomical  specimens,  the  proceeds  to  furnish  bread  for 
his  children. 

I  know  it  cuts  close.  Some  of  you  make  a  great  swash  in  life,  and 
after  a  while  you  will  die,  and  ministers  will  be  sent  for  to  come  and 
stand  by  your  coffin  and  lie  about  your  excellencies;  but  they  will  not 
come.  If  you  send  forme,  this  will  be  my  text :  "He  thatprovideth 
not  for  his  own,  and  especially  for  those  of  his  own  household,  is  worse 
than  an  infidel."  And  yet  we  find  Christian  men,  men  of  large  means, 
who  sometimes  talk  eloquently  about  the  Christian  Church  and  about 
civilization,  expending  everything  on  themselves  and  nothing  on  the 
cause  of  God,  and  they  crack  the  back  of  their  Palais  Royal  glove  in 
trying  to  hide  the  one  cent  they  put  in  the  Lord's  treasury.  What  an 
apportionment !  Twenty  thousand  dollars  for  ourselves,  and  one  cent 
for  God.  Ah,  my  friends,  this  extravagance  accounts  for  a  great  deal 
of  what  the  cause  of  God  suffers. 

And  the  desecration  goes  on,  even  to  the  funeral  day.  You 
know  very  well  that  there  are  men  who  die  solvent,  but  the  expenses 
are  so  great  before  they  get  under  ground  that  they  are  insolvent. 
There  are  families  that  go  into  penury  in  wicked  response  to  the  de- 
mands of  this  day.  They  put  into  casket  and  tombstone  that  which 
they  ought  to  put  into  bread.  They  wanted  bread — you  give  them  a 
tombstone ! 


THE  BURDEN  OF  DEBT.  77 

0  my  friends,  let  us  take  our  stand  against  the   extravagances 
of  society.     Do  not  pay  for  things  which  are  frivolous,  when  you  may 
lack  the  necessities  of  life.     Do  not  pay  one  month's  wages  for  one 
trinket.     Keep  your  credit  good  by  seldom  asking  for  it.     Pay  !     Do 
not  starve  a  whole  year  to  afford  one  Belshazzar's  carnival.     Do  not 
buy  a  coat  of  many  colors,    and  then  in  six  months  be  out  at   the 
elbows.    Flourish  not  like  some  people  I  have  known,  who  took  apart- 
ments at  a  fashionable  hotel,  and  had  elegant  drawing-rooms  attached, 
and  then  vanished  in  the  night,  not  even  leaving  their  compliments  for 
the  landlord.     I  tell  you,  my  friends,  in  the  day  of  God's  judgment,  we 
will  not  only  have  to  give  an  account  for  the  way  we  made  our  money, 
but  for  the  way  we  spent  it. 

BILLS  DUE. 

1  will  put  on  your  table  some  bills  of  indebtedness.     If  they  are 
wrong,  don't  pay  them.     If  they  are  right,  say  so.     The  first  bill  of 
indebtedness  that  I  put  upon  your  table  is  the  bill  for  rent.     This 
world  is   the  house  that  God  built  for  us  to  live  in.     He  lets  it  to  us 
already  furnished.     What  a  carpet !— the  grass  interwoven  with  figure 
of  flowers.     What   a   ceiling  ! — the   frescoed  sky.     What   tapestried 
pillars  ! — the  rocks.     What  a  front  door  ! — the  flaming  sunrise  through 
which  the  day  comes  in.     What  a  back  door ! — the  sunset  through 
which  the  day  goes  out.     What  a  chandelier  and  candelabra  ! — the  sun 
and  stars.     What  a  flour-bin  ! — the  wheat-fields.     What  chimneys  ! — 
Stromboli  and  Cotopaxi.     Ah  !  the  Alhambra  and  Windsor  Castle  are 
but  Queenstown  shanties  compared  with  this  great  house  that  God  has 
put  up  for  us  to  live   in,  and  of  which  the  rent  is  due  !     Are  we 
ready  to  pay  it? 

The  next  bill  for  indebtedness  that  I  find  upon  the  table  is  the 
bill  for  taxes.  You  have  paid  the  city  taxes,  the  state  taxes,  the 
United  States  taxes  ;  but  have  you  paid  God  for  letting  you  live  in 
this  beautiful  city  and  in  this  glorious  country?  Think  of  the  contrast 
between  your  own  condition  and  that  of  those  who  heard  the  howling 
Communists  rushing  through  the  Champs  Elysees  of  Paris,  their  shoes 
soaked  with  the  blood  of  women  and  children  !  What  is  this  Brooklyn 
that  we  live  in  ?  New  York  in  its  better  mood,  and  surrounded  with 
its  family.  What  is  this  great  nation  ?  The  most  divinely  blessed  that 
ever  existed.  Washington  and  Jefferson  never  dreamed  of  such  a 


a;8  THE  BURDEN  OF  DEBT. 

land  as  this  has  got  to  be.  The  Jews  were  God's  ancient  people; ; 
Americans  are  God's  modern  people.  And  we  have  the  advantage 
over  them.  They  wandered  forty  years  through  the  desert ;  we  have 
gone  for  nigh  a  hundred  years  through  a  garden.  God  struck  one 
rock  for  them,  and  the  water  came  down  to  slake  their  thirst ;  all  the 
rocks  of  this  land  are  struck  to  supply  our  thirst.  One  flock  of  quails 
came  down  to  the  Israelites,  and  they  ate,  and  died  ;  this  land  is  full  of 
quails,  and  grosbeaks,  and  robins,  and  prairie-fowl,  and  the  nation  eats 
and  lives.  Manna  came  down  in  the  dew  for  the  Israelitesr  but  if  it 
was  not  picked  right  up,  it  became  wormy ;  God  drops  the  manna 
down  on  all  the  wheat-fields  from  Pennsylvania  to  California,  and  we 
gather  it  into  the  granaries.  You  may  not  like  the  President  of  the 
United  States ;  you  may  not  like  the  governor  ;  you  may  not  like  the 
mayor ;  but,  come  now,  men  of  all  parties,  be  frank,  and  acknowledge 
that  it  is  a  glorious  country  to  live  in.  You  have  paid  the  amount  of 
earthly  taxes  you  owe — the  city  tax,  the  state  tax,  the  United  States 
tax,  but  "  how  much  owest  thou  unto  my  Lord? ' 

There  is  one  more  bill  of  indebtedness  laid  upon  the  table,  and 
that  is  the  bill  for  your  redemption.  I  have  been  told  that  the  bells  in 
St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  London,  never  toll  save  when  the  king  or  some 
member  of  the  royal  family  dies.  The  thunders  in  the  dome  of  heaven 
never  tolled  so  dolefully  as  when  they  rang  out  to  the  world  the  news, 
"  King  Jesus  is  dead  !  "  When  a  king  dies,  the  whole  land  is  put  in 
black  :  they  shroud  the  pillars  ;  they  put  the  people  in  procession  ;  they 
march  to  a  doleful  drum-beat.  What  shall  we  do  now  that  our  King  is 
dead?  Put  blackness  on  the  gates  of  the  morning.  Let  the  cathedral 
organs  wail ;  let  the  winds  sob  ;  let  all  the  generations  of  men  fall  into 
line,  and  beat  a  funeral-march  of  woe  !  woe  !  woe  !  as  we  go  to  the 
grave  of  our  dead  King. 

In  Philadelphia  they  have  a  habit,  after  the  coffin  is  deposited  in  the 
grave,  of  the  friends  going  formally  up  and  standing  at  the  brink  of 
the  grave  and  looking  in.  So  I  take  you  all  to-night  to  look  into  the 
grave  of  our  dead  King.  The  lines  of  care  are  gone  out  of  his  face. 
The  wounds  have  stopped  bleeding.  Just  lift  up  that  lacerated  hand. 
Lift  it  up,  and  then  lay  it  down  softly  over  that  awful  gash  in  the  left 
side.  He  is  dead  !  He  is  dead  ! 

Eight  hundred  years  after  Edward  I.  was  buried,  they  brought  up 
his  body,  and  they  found  that  he  still  lay  with  a  crown  on  his  head. 


CONDEMNING   THE   UNMERCIFUL   SERVANT 


279 


THORNS   IN   THE   FIELD   OF   THE   SLOTHFUL 


280 


THE  BURDEN  OF  DEBT.  281 

More  than  eighteen  hundred  years  have  passed,  and  I  look  into  the 
grave  of  my  dead  King,  and  I  see  not  only  a  crown,  but  "on  his  head 
are  many  crowns."  And,  what  is  more,  he  is  rising.  Yea,  he  has 
risen  !  Time  was  when  this  could  not  be  said  ;  time  was  when  Christ's 
record  was  one  of  agony,  his  approaching  fate  a  terrible  death.  In 
that  day  there  was  none  to  help.  The  wave  of  anguish  came  up  to 
his  feet,  came  up  to  his  knee,  floated  to  his  waist,  rose  to  his  chin, 
swept  to  his  temples,  yet  none  to  help  !  Angels  by  thousands  in  the 
skies,  ready,  had  God's  word  been  spoken,  to  plunge  into  the  affray  and 
strike  back  the  hosts  of  darkness,  yet  none  to  help  !  none  to  help  ! 

That  day  of  agony  has  passed,  and  the  day  of  victory  has  come. 
Weep  not  for  our  King,  for  He  is  risen.  Ye  who  came  to  the  grave 
weeping,  go  away  rejoicing.  Let  your  dirges  now  change  to  anthems. 
He  lives  !  Take  off  the  blackness  from  the  gates  of  the  morning.  He 
lives  !  Let  earth  and  heaven  keep' jubilee.  He  lives  !  "I  know  that 
my  Redeemer  lives ! 


THE  COLUMBIAN  WORLD'S  FAlK. 


FAIRS  may  be  for  the  sale  of  goods,  or  for  the  exhibition  of  goods 
on  a  small  scale  or  a  large  scale,  for  county  or  city,  for  one  na 
tion  or  for  all  nations.  Tyre  was  once  the  mispress  of  the  sea 
and  the  queen  of  international  commerce.  All  nations  cast  their 
crowns  at  her  feet.  Referring  to  the  richest  countries  of  the  world, 
the  sacred  Book  says  of  Tyre,  "They  traded  in  thy  fairs."  Look  in 
upon  a  world's  fair  at  Tyre.  Ezekiel  leads  us  through  one  department, 
and  it  is  a  horse-fair.  Under-fed  and  over-driven  for  ages,  the  horses 
of  to-day  give  you  no  idea  of  the  splendid  animals  which,  rearing  and 
plunging  and  snorting  and  neighing,  were  brought  down  over  the  plank 
of  the  ships  and  led  into  the  world's  fair  at  Tyre,  until  Ezekiel,  who 
was  a  minister  of  religion  and  not  supposed  to  know  much  about 
horses,  cried  out  in  admiration,  "They  of  the  house  of  Togarmah 
traded  in  thy  fairs  with  horses."  Here  in  another  department  of  that 
world's  fair  at  Tyre,  led  on  by  Ezekiel  the  prophet,  we  find  everything 
all  ablaze  with  precious  stones.  Like  petrified  snow  are  the  corals ; 
like  fragments  of  fallen  sky  are  the  sapphires ;  and  here  is  agate 
ablush  with  all  colors.  What  is  that  aroma  we  inhale  ?  It  is  from 
chests  of  cedar  which  we  open,  and  find  them  filled  with  all  styles  of 
fabric.  But  the  aromatics  increase  as  we  pass  down  this  lane  of  en- 
chantment, and  here  are  cassia  and  frankincense  and  balm.  Led  on  by 
Ezekiel  the  prophet,  we  come  to  an  agricultural  fair  with  a  display  of 
wheat  from  Minnith  and  Pannag,  rich  as  that  of  our  modern  Dakota  or 
Michigan.  And  here  is  a  mineralogical  fair,  with  specimens  of  iron 
'and  silver  and  tin  and  lead  and  gold.  But  halt,  for  here  is  purple, 
Tyrian  purple,  of  all  tints  and  shades,  deep  almost  unto  the  black  and 

bright  almost  unto  the  blue ;  waiting  for  kings  and  queens  to  order  it 

(282) 


THE  COLUMBIAN  WORLD'S  FAIR.  283 

made  into  robes  for  coronation  day ;  purple  not  like  that  which  is  now 
made  from  the  Orchilla  weed,  but  the  extinct  purple,  the  lost  purple, 
which  the  ancients  knew  how  to  make  out  of  the  gasteropod  mollusks 
of  the  Mediterranean.  Oh,  look  at  those  casks  of  wine  from  Helbon ! 
See  those  snow-banks  of  wool  from  the  back  of  sheep  that  once  pas- 
tured in  Gilead  !  Oh,  the  bewildering  riches  and  variety  of  that  world's 
fair  at  Tyre  ! 

GREAT   EXPOSITIONS. 

The  world  has  copied  these  Bible-mentioned  fairs  in  all  succeeding 
ages,  and  it  has  had  its  Louis  the  Sixth's  fair  at  Dagobert,  and  Henry 
the  First's  fair  on  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  and  Hungarian  fairs  at 
Pesth,  and  Easter  fairs  at  Leipsic,  and  the  Scotch  fairs  at  Perth, 
(bright  was  the  day  when  I  was  at  one  of  them,)  and  afterward  came 
the  London  world's  fair,  and  the  New  York  world's  fair,  and  the 
Vienna  world's  fair,  and  the  Parisian  world's  fair,  and  the  Centennial 
world's  fair,  and  it  has  been  decided  that,  in  commemoration  of  the 
discovery  of  America  in  1492,  there  shall  be  held  in  this  country  in 
1893— allowing  one  year  of  grace  to  cover  municipal  strife  and  official 
mismanagement — a  world's  fair  that  shall  eclipse  all  preceding  national 
expositions. 

God  speed  the  movement !  Surely  the  event  commemorated  is 
worthy  of  all  the  architecture  and  music  and  pyrotechnics  and  eloquent 
and  stupendous  planning  and  monetary  expenditure  and  congressional 
appropriations  which  the  most  sanguine  Christian  patriot  has  ever 
dreamed  of.  Was  any  voyage  that  the  world  ever  heard  of  crowned 
with  such  an  arrival  as  that  of  Columbus  and  his  men  ?  After  they 
had  been  encouraged  for  the  last  few  days  by  flight  of  land-birds  and 
floating  branches  of  red  berries,  and  while  Columbus  was  down  in  the 
cabin  studying  the  sea-chart,  Martin  Pinzon,  standing  on  deck  and 
looking  to  the  southwest,  cried,  "Land!  Land!  Land!"  And  "Gloria 
in  Excelsis  "  was  sung  in  raining  tears  on  all  the  three  ships  of  the  ex- 
pedition. Most  appropriate  and  patriotic  and  Christian  will  be  a  com- 
memorative world's  fair. 

I  want  to  say  some  things  from  the  point  of  Christian  patriotism 
which  ought  to  be  said,  and  the  earlier  the  better,  that  we  may  get 
thousands  of  people  talking  in  the  right  direction,  and  that  will  make 
healthful  public  opinion.  I  beg  you  to  consider  prayerfully  what  I  feel 


2g4  THE  COLUMBIAN  WORLD'S  FAIR. 

called  upon  of  God  as  an  American  citizen  and  as  a  preacher  of  right- 
eousness to  utter. 

THEIR    RELIGIOUS    ASPECT. 

My  first  suggestion  concerning  the  coming  exposition  is,  let  not 
the  materialistic  and  monetary  idea  overpower  the  moral  and  religious. 
During  that  exposition  for  the  first  time  in  all  their  lives,  there  will  be 
thousands  of  people  from  other  lands  who  will  see  a  country  without  a 
state  religion.  Let  us,  by  an  increased  harmony  among  all  denomina- 
tions of  religion,  impress  other  nationalities,  as  they  come  here  that 
year,  with  the  superior  advantage  of  having  all  denominations  equal  in 
the  sight  of  government.  All  the  rulers  and  chief  men  of  Europe  be- 
long to  the  state  religion,  whatever  it  may  be.  Although  our  last  two 
Presidents  have  been  Presbyterians,  the  previous  one  was  an  Episcopa- 
lian ;  and  the  two  preceding,  Methodists  ;  and  going  further  back  in  that 
line  of  presidents,  we  find  Martin  Van  Buren  a  Dutch  Reformed  ;  and 
John  Quincy  Adams  a  Unitarian  ;  and  a  man's  religion  in  this  country  is 
neither  a  hindrance  nor  an  advantage  in  the  matter  of  political  elevation. 
All  Europe  needs  that.  All  the  world  needs  that.  A  man's  religion 
is  something  between  himself  and  his  God,  and  it  must  not,  directly  or 
indirectly,  be  interfered  with. 

Furthermore,  during  that  exposition,  Christian  civilization  will  con- 
front barbarism.  We  shall,  as  a  nation,  have  a  greater  opportunity  to 
make  an  evangelizing  impression  upon  foreign  nationalities  than  would 
otherwise  be  afforded  us  in  a  quarter  of  a  century.  Let  the  churches 
of  the  city  where  the  exposition  is  held  be  open  every  day,  and  prayers 
be  offered  and  sermons  preached  and  doxologies  sung.  In  the  interim, 
let  us  get  a  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  so  that  the  six  months  of  that 
world's  fair  shall  be  fifty  Pentecosts  in  one,  and  instead  of  three  thous- 
and converted,  as  in  the  former  Pentecost,  hundreds  of  thousands  will 
be  converted.  You  must  remember  that  the  Pentecost  mentioned  in 
the  Bible  occurred  when  there  was  no  printing-press,  no  books,  no 
Christian  pamphlets,  no  religious  newspapers,  and  yet  the  influence 
was  tremendous.  How  many  nationalities  were  touched  ?  The  ac 
count  says:  "  Parthians,  and  Medes,  and  Elamites,"  that  is,  people 
from  the  eastern  countries;  "  Phrygia  and  Pamphylia,"  that  is,  the 
western  countries ;  "  Cyrene,  and  strangers  of  Rome,  Cretes  and 
Arabians,"  that  is,  the  southern  countries  ;  but  they  were  all  moved  by 
tfie  mighty  spectacle.  Instead  of  the  sixteen  or  eighteen  tribes  of 


COLUMBUS  ADDRESSING   HIS  MEN  DURING  THE  MUTINY  ON  BOARD  HIS  SHIP 

zoo 


286 


THE  COLUMBIAN  WORLD'S  FAIR.  287 

people  reported  at  that  Pentecost,  all  the  chief  nations  of  Europe  and 
Asia,  North  and  South  America,  will  be  represented  at  our  world's  fair 
in  1893,  and  a  Pentecost  here  and  then  would  mean  the  salvation  of 
the  round  world. 

But,  you  say,  we  may  have  at  that  fair  the  people  of  all  lands  and 
all  the  machinery  for  gospelization,  the  religious  printing-presses  and 
the  churches,  but  all  that  would  not  make  a  Pentecost ;  we  must  have 
God.  Well,  you  can  have  Him.  Has  He  not  been  graciously  waiting? 
Nothing  stands  in  the  way  but  our  own  unbelief,  and  indolence,  and 
sin.  May  God  break  down  the  barriers  !  The  grandest  opportunity 
for  the  evangelization  of  all  nations  since  Jesus  Christ  died  on  the  cross 
will  be  the  world's  exposition  of  1893.  God  may  take  us  out  of  the 
harvest-field  before  that,  but  let  it  be  known  throughout  Christendom 
that  that  year — between  May  and  November — will  be  the  mountain  of 
Christian  advantage,  the  Alpine  and  Himalayan  heights  of  opportunity 
overtopping  all  others  for  salvation.  Instead  of  the  slow  process  of 
having  to  send  the  Gospel  to  other  lands  by  our  own  American  mis- 
sionaries, who  have  difficult  toil  in  acquiring  the  foreign  language  and 
then  must  contend  with  foreign  prejudices,  what  a  grand  thing  it  will 
be  to  have  able  and  influential  foreigners  converted  during  their  visit 
in  America,  and  then  have  them  return  to  their  native  lands  with  the 
glorious  tidings  !  Oh,  for  an  overwhelming  work  of  grace  for  the  year 
1893! 

A    PEACE-CONGRESS. 

Another  opportunity,  if  our  public  men  see  it — and  it  is  the  duty 
of  pulpit  and  printing-press  to  help  them  to  see  it — will  be  the  calling 
at  that  time  and  place  of  a  legal  peace-congress  for  all  nations.  The 
convention  of  representatives  from  the  governments  of  North  and 
South  America,  recently  held  at  Washington,  is  only  a  type  of  what  we 
may  have  on  a  vast  and  a  world-wide  scale  at  the  international  expo- 
sition of  1893.  By  one  stroke  the  gorgon  of  war  might  be  siain  and 
\  buried  so  deep  that  neither  trumpet  of  human  dispute  or  of  archangel's 
i  blowing  could  resurrect  it.  When  the  last  Napoleon  called  such  a  con- 
gress of  nations  many  did  not  respond,  and  those  that  did  respond 
gathered,  wondering  what  trap  that  wily  destroyer  of  the  French  Re- 
public and  the  builder  of  a  French  monarchy  might  spring  on  them. 
But  what  if  the  most  popular  government  on  earth — I  mean  the  United 
States  government — should  practically  say  to  all  nations  :  On  the 


THE  COLUMBIAN  WORLD'S  FAIR. 


American  continent,  in  1893,  we  w^  hold  a  world's  fair,  and  all  nations 
will  send  to  it  specimens  of  their  products,  their  manufactures,  and 
their  arts,  and  we  invite  all  the  Governments  of  Europe,  Asia  and 
Africa,  to  send  representatives  to  a  peace-convention  that  shall  be  held 
at  the  same  time  and  place,  and  that  shall  establish  an  international 
arbitration  commission,  to  whom  shall  be  referred  all  controversies  be- 
tween nation  and  nation,  their  decision  to  be  final,  so  that  all  nations 
may  be  relieved  from  the  expense  of  standing  armies  and  naval  equip- 
ment, war  having  been  made  an  everlasting  impossibility. 

All  the  nations  of  the  earth  worth  consideration  would  come  to  it  ; 
mighty  men  of  England,  and  Germany,  and  France,  and  Russia,  and 
all  the  other  great  nationalities  ;  Bismarck,  who  worships  the  Lord  of 
Hosts,  and  Gladstone,  who  worships  the  God  of  Peace,  and  Boulanger, 
who  worships  himself.  The  fact  is,  that  the  nations  are  sick  of  drinking 
out  of  chalices  made  of  human  skulls  and  filled  with  blood.  The  United 
States  Government  is  the  only  government  in  the  whole  world  that 
could  successfully  call  such  a  congress.  Suppose  France  should  call 
it,  Germany  would  not  come  ;  or  Germany  should  call  it,  France 
would  not  come  ;  or  Russia  should  call  it,  Turkey  would  not  come  ;  or 
England  should  call  it,  nations  long  jealous  of  her  overshadowing 
power  in  Europe  would  not  come.  America,  in  favor  with  all  nation- 
alities, standing  out  independent  and  alone,  is  the  spot,  and  1893  w^ 
be  the  time. 

May  this  proposition  please  the  President  of  the  United  States, 
may  it  please  the  Secretary  of  State,  may  it  please  the  Cabinet,  may 
\t  please  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives,  may  it  please  the 
printing-presses,  and  the  churches,  and  the  people,  who  lift  up  and  put 
down  our  American  rulers.  To  them  all  I  make  this  timely,  and  solemn, 
and  Christian  appeal.  Do  you  not  think  people  die  fast  enough  with- 
out this  wholesale  butchery  of  war  ?  Do  you  not  think  that  we  can 
trust  to  pneumonias,  and  consumptions,  and  apoplexies,  and  palsies, 
and  yellow  fevers,  and  Asiatic  choleras,  the  work  of  killing  them  fast 
enough?  Do  you  not  think  that  the  greedy,  wide-open  jaws  of  the 
grave  ought  to  be  satisfied  if  filled  by  natural  causes  with  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  corpses  a  year  ?  Do  you  not  think  we  can  do  something 
better  with  men  than  to  dash  their  lives  out  against  casements,  or  blow 
them  into  fragments  by  torpedoes,  or  send  them  out  into  the  world, 
where  they  need  all  their  faculties,  footless,  armless,  eyeless  ?  Do  you 


THE  COLUMBIAN  WORLDS  FAIR.  289 

not  think  that  women  might  be  appointed  to  an  easier  place  than  the 
edge  of  a  grave-trench  to  wring  their  pale  hands,  and  weep  out  their 
eyesight  in  widowhood  and  childlessness  ?  The  last  glory  has  gone 
out  of  war. 

HORRORS   OF   WAR. 

There  was  a  time  when  war  demanded  that  quality  which  we  all 
admire — namely,  courage — for  a  man  had  to  stand  at  the  hilt  of  his 
sword  when  the  point  pierced  the  foe,  and  while  he  was  slaying  another 
the  other  might  slay  him  ;  or  it  was  bayonet  charge.  But  now  it  is 
cool  and  deliberate  murder,  and  clear  out  at  sea  a  bombshell  can  be 
hurled  miles  away  into  a  city  ;  or  while  thousands  of  private  soldiers, 
who  have  no  interest  in  the  contest,  for  they  were  conscripted,  are 
losing  their  lives,  their  General  may  sit  smoking  one  of  the  best  Havana 
cigars  after  a  dinner  of  quail  on  toast.  It  may  be  well  enough  for 
graduating  students  of  colleges  on  commencement  day  to  orate  about 
the  poetry  of  war  ;  but  do  not  talk  about  the  poetry  of  war  to  the  men 
of  the  Federal  or  Confederate  armies  who  were  at  the  front,  or  to  some 
of  us  who,  as  members  of  the  Christian  commission,  saw  the  ghastly 
hospitals  at  Antietam  and  Hagerstown.  Ah  !  you  may  worship  the 
Lord  of  Hosts,  I  worship  the  "God  of  Peace,  who  brought  again  from 
the  dead  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep." 

War  is  an  accursed  monster  and  it  was  born  in  the  lowest  cavern 
of  perdition,  and  I  pray  that  it  may  speedily  descend  to  the  place  from 
which  it  arose,  its  last  sword  and  shield  and  musket  rattling  on  the 
bottom  of  the  red  hot  marl  of  hell.  Let  there  be  called  a  peace-con- 
vention for  1893,  with  delegates  sent  by  all  the  decent  Governments  of 
Christendom,  and  while  they  are  in  session,  if  you  should  some  night 
go  out  and  look  into  the  sky  above  the  exposition  buildings,  you  may 
find  that  the  old  gallery  of  crystal,  that  was  taken  down  after  the  Beth- 
lehem anthem  of  eighteen  centuries  ago  was  sung  out,  is  rebuilt  again 
in  the  clouds,  and  the  same  angelic  singers  are  returned  with  the  sam< 
librettos  of  light  to  chant  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth 
peace,  good-will  to  men." 

FOREIGN    VICES. 

Again,  I  suggest  in  regard  to  the  World's  Fair  that,  while  appro- 
priate places  are  prepared  for  all  foreign  exhibits,  we  make  no  room 
for  the  importation  of  foreign  vices.  America  has  enough  of  its  own, 

19 


290  THE  COLUMBIAN  WORLD'S  FAIR. 

and  we  need  no  installments  of  that  kind.  A  world's  fair  will  bring  all 
kinds  of  people,  good  and  bad.  The  good  we  must  prepare  to  wel- 
come, the  bad  we  must  prepare  to  shun.  The  attempt  will  again  be 
made  in  1893,  as  m  I8y6,  to  break  up  our  American  Sabbaths.  That 
attempt  was  made  at  the  Philadelphia  Centennial,  but  was  defeated, 
i  he  American  Sabbath  is  the  best  kept  Sabbath  on  earth.  We  do  not 
want  it  broken  down,  and  substituted  in  the  place  thereof  the  Brussels 
Sabbath,  the  Vienna  Sabbath,  the  St.  Petersburg  Sabbath,  or  any  of  the 
foreign  Sabbaths,  which  are  no  Sabbaths  at  all.  I  think  the  Lord  is 
more  than  generous  in  asking  only  fifty-two  days  out  of  the  three  hun- 
dred and  sixty-five  for  his  service.  You  let  the  Sabbath  go  and  with 
it  will  go  your  Bible,  and  after  that  your  liberties,  and  your  children  or 
your  grandchildren  will  be  here  in  America  under  a  despotism  as  bad 
as  in  those  lands  where  they  turn  the  Lord's  day  into  wassail  and  frolic. 
Among  those  who  come  there  will  be,  as  at  other  expositions, 
lordly  people  who  will  bring  their  vices  with  them.  Among  the  dukes 
and  duchesses  and  princes  and  princesses  of  other  lands  are  some  of 
the  best  men  and  women  of  all  the  earth.  Remember  Earl  of  Kintore, 
Lord  Cairns,  and  Lord  Shaftesbury.  But  there  is  a  snobbery  and  flun- 
kyism  in  American  society  that  runs  after  a  grandee,  a  duke,  a  lord, 
or  a  prince,  though  he  may  be  a  walking  lazaretto  and  his  breath  a 
plague.  It  makes  the  fortune  of  some  of  our  queens  of  society  to 
dance  one  cotillon  with  one  of  these  princely  lepers.  Some  people 
cannot  get  their  hat  off  quick  enough  when  they  see  such  a  foreign 
lord  approaching,  and  they  do  not  care  for  the  mire  into  which  they 
drop  their  knees  as  they  bow  to  worship.  Let  no  splendor  of  pedigree 
or  any  pomp  and  paraphernalia  of  circumstance  make  him  attractive. 
There  is  only  one  set  of  Ten  Commandments  that  I  ever  heard  of,  and 
no  class  of  men  or  women  in  all  the  world  are  excused  from  obedience 
to  those  laws  written  by  finger  of  lightning  on  the  granite  surface  of 
Mount  Sinai.  Surely  we  have  enough  American  vices  without  making 
any  drafts  upon  European  vice  for  1893. 

THE    BRIGHT    SIDE. 

I  rejoice  to  believe  that  the  advantages  will  overtop  everything  in 
that  world's  fair.  What  an  introduction  to  each  other  of  communities, 
of  states,  of  republics,  of  empires,  of  zones,  of  hemispheres  !  What 
doors  of  information  will  be  swung  wide  open  for  the  boys  and  girls 


THE  COLUMBIAN  WORLD'S  FAIR.  291 

now  on  the  threshold  !  What  national  and  international  education  ! 
What  crowning  of  industry  with  sheaves  of  grain,  and  what  imperial 
robing  of  her  with  embroidered  fabrics  !  What  scientific  apparatus  ! 
What  telescopes  for  the  infinitude  above  and  microscopes  for  the  infin- 
itude beneath,  and  instruments  to  put  nature  to  the  torture  until  she 
tells  her  last  secret !  What  a  display  of  the  munificence  of  the  God 
who  has  grown  enough  wheat  to  make  a  loaf  of  good  bread  large 
enough  for  the  human  race,  and  enough  cotton  to  stocking  every  foot, 
and  enough  timber  to  shelter  every  head,  making  it  manifest  that  it  is 
not  God's  fault,  but  either  man's  oppression  or  indolence  or  dissipation 
if  there  be  any  without  supply.  What  churches!  What  public 
libraries !  What  asylums  of  mercy !  What  academies  of  music ! 
What  mighty  men  in  law  and  medicine  and  art  and  scholarship  !  What 
schools  and  colleges  and  universities  !  What  women  radiant  and  gra- 
cious, and  an  improvement  on  all  the  generations  of  women  since  Eve  ! 
What  philanthropists  who  do  not  feel  satisfied  with  their  own  charities 
until  they  get  into  the  hundreds  of  thousands  and  the  millions  !  What 
"God's  acres"  for  the  dead,  gardens  of  beauty  and  palaces  of  marble 
for  those  who  sleep  the  last  sleep  ! 

Under  the  arches  of  the  chief  building  of  that  exposition  let  capi- 
tal and  labor,  too  long  estranged,  at  last  be  married,  each  taking  the 
hand  of  each  in  pledge  of  eternal  fidelity,  while  representations  of  all 
nations  stand  round  rejoicing  at  the  nuptials,  and  saying:  "What  God 
hath  joined  together  let  not  man  put  asunder."  Then  shall  the  thren- 
ody of  the  needle-woman  no  longer  be  heard : 

"  Work,  work,  work  ! 

Till  the  brain  begins  to  swim; 
Work,  work,  work  ! 

Till  the  eyes  are  heavy  and  dim. 
Seam  and  gusset  and  band, 

Band  and  gusset  and  seam, 
Till  over  the  buttons  I  fall  asleep, 

And  sew  them  on  in  a  dream." 

O  Christian  America !  Make  ready  for  the  grandest  exposition 
ever  seen  under  the  sun  !  Have  Bibles  enough  bound.  Have  churches 
enough  established.  Have  scientific  halls  enough  endowed.  Have 
printing-presses  .enough  set  up.  Have  revivals  of  religion  enough  in 
full  blast.  I  believe  you  will.  "  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David! 
Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord! " 


CAPTIVES  SET  FREE. 


f  1  ^HERE  is  intense  excitement  in  the  village  of  Ziklag.     David  and 

his  men  are  bidding  good-bye  to  their  families,  and  are  off  for 

the  wars.     In  that  little  village  of  Ziklag  the  defenseless  ones 

will  be  safe  until  the  warriors,  flushed  with  victory,  come  home. — But 

will  the  defenseless  ones  be  safe  ? 

The  soft  arms  of  children  are  around  the  necks  of  the  bronzed 
warriors  until  they  shake  themselves  free  and  start,  and  handkerchiefs 
and  flags  are  waved  and  kisses  thrown  until  the  armed  men  vanish  be- 
yond the  hills.  David  and  his  men  soon  get  through  with  their  cam- 
paign and  start  homeward.  Every  night  on  their  way  home,  no  sooner 
does  the  soldier  put  his  head  on  the  knapsack  than  in  his  dream  he 
hears  the  welcome  of  the  wife  and  the  shout  of  the  child.  Oh,  what 
long  stories  they  will  have  to  tell  their  families,  of  how  they  dodged 
the  battle-axe,  and  then  will  roll  up  their  sleeve  and  show  the  half- 
healed  wound ! 

With  glad,  quick  step  they  march  on,  David  and  his  men,  for  they 
are  marching  home.  Now  they  come  up  to  the  last  hill  which  overlooks 
Ziklag,  and  they  expect  in  a  moment  to  see  the  dwelling-places  of  their 
loved  ones.  They  look,  and  as  they  look  their  cheeks  turn  pale,  and 
their  lips  quiver,  and  their  hand  involuntarily  comes  down  on  the  hilt 
of  the  sword.  "Where  is  Ziklag?  Where  are  our  homes?  "  Alas  ! 
the  curling  smoke  above  the  ruin  tells  the  tragedy.  The  Amalekites 
have  come  down  and  consumed  the  village,  and  carried  the  mothers 
and  the  wives  and  the  children  of  David  and  his  men  into  captivity. 

THE    HOT   PURSUIT. 

The  swarthy  warriors   stand  for  a  few  moments  transfixed  with 

horror.     Then  their  eyes  glance  at  each  other,  and  they  burst  into 
292 


CAPTIVES  SET  FREE.  203 

uncontrollable  weeping — for  when  a  strong  warrior  weeps,  the  grief  is 
appalling.  It  seems  as  if  the  emotion  might  tear  him  to  pieces.  They 
"  wept  until  they  had  no  more  power  to  weep." 

But  soon  their  sorrow  turns  into  rage,  and  David,  swinging  his 
sword  high  in  the  air,  cries,  "  Pursue,  for  thou  shalt  overtake  them, 
and  without  fail  recover  all"  Now  the  march  becomes  a  "double- 
quick."  Two  luindred  of  David's  men  stop  by  the  brook  Besor,  faint 
with  fatigue  and  grief.  They  cannot  go  a  step  farther.  They  are  left 
there.  But  the  other  four  hundred  men  under  David,  with  a  sort  of 
panther  step,  march  on  in  sorrow  and  in  rage.  They  find  by  the  side 
of  the  road  a  half  dead  Egyptian,  and  they  resuscitate  him,  and  compel 
him  to  tell  the  whole  story.  He  says,  "  Yonder  they  went,  the  cap- 
tors and  the  captives,"  pointing  in  the  direction.  Forward,  ye  four 
hundred  brave  men  of  fire ! 

Very  soon  David  and  his  enraged  company  come  upon  the 
Amalekitish  host.  Yonder  they  see  their  owrt  wives  and  children  and 
mothers,  and  under  Amalekitish  guard.  Here  are  the  officers  of  the 
Amalekitish  army  holding  a  banquet.  The  cups  are  full,  the  music  is 
roused,  the  dance  begins.  The  Amalekitish  host  cheer  and  cheer  and 
cheer  over  their  victory.  But,  without  note  of  bugle  or  warning  of 
trumpet,  David  and  his  four  hundred  men  burst  upon  the  scene,  sud- 
denly as  Robert  Bruce  hurled  his  Scotchmen  upon  the  revelers  at  Ban- 
nockburn.  David  and  his  men  look  up,  and  one  glance  at  their  loved 
ones  in  captivity  and  under  Amalekitish  guard,  throws  them  into  a  very 
fury  of  determination  ;  for  you  know  how  men  will  fight  when  they  fight 
for  their  wives  and  children.  Ah,  there  are  lightnings  in  their  eye,  and 
every  finger  is  a  spear,  and  their  voice  is  like  the  shout  of  the  whirlwind. 
Amidst  the  upset  tankards  and  the  costly  viands  crushed  under  foot, 
the  wounded  Amalekites  lie  (their  blood  mingling  with  their  wine), 
shrieking  for  mercy.  No  sooner  do  David  and  his  men  win  the  victory 
than  they  throw  their  swords  down  into  the  dust — what  do  they  want 
with  swords  now? — and  the  broken  families  come  together  amidst  a 
great  shout  of  joy  that  makes  the  parting  scene  in  Ziklag  seem  very 
insipid  in  the  comparison.  The  rough  old  warrior  has  to  use  some  per- 
suasion before  he  can  get  his  child  to  come  to  him  now  after  so  long  an 
absence ;  but  soon  the  little  finger  traces  the  familiar  wrinkles  across 
the  scarred  face.  And  then  the  empty  tankards  are  set  up,  and  they 
are  filled  with  the  best  wine  from  the  hills,  and  David  and  his  men,  the 


*94  CAPTIVES  SET  FREE. 

husbands,  the  wives,  the  brothers,  the  sisters,  drink  to  the  overthrow 
of  the  Amalekites  and  to  the  rebuilding  of  Ziklag.  "  So,  O  Lord, 
let  thine  enemies  perish  !  " 

THE   JOYFUL    RETURN. 

Now  they  are  coming  home — David  and  his  men  and  their  families 
—-a  long  procession.  Men,  women  and  children,  loaded  with  jewels 
and  robes,  and  with  all  kinds  of  trophies  that  the  Amalekites  had 
gathered  up  in  years  of  conquest — everything  now  in  the  hands  of 
David  and  his  men.  When  they  come  to  the  brook  Besor,  the  place 
where  staid  the  men  sick  and  incompetent  to  travel,  the  jewels  and 
the  robes  and  all  kinds  of  treasures  are  divided  among  the  sick  as  well 
a<?  among  the  well.  Surely,  the  lame  and  exhausted  ought  to  have 
some  of  the  treasures.  Here  is  a  robe  for  this  pale-faced  warrior. 
Here  is  a  pillow  for  this  dying  man.  Here  is  handful  of  gold  for  the 
wasted  trumpeter.  I  really  think  that  these  men  who  fainted  by  the  brook 
Besor  may  have  endured  as  much  as  those  men  who  went  into  battle. 
Some  mean  fellows  objected  to  the  sick  ones  having  any  of  the  spoils. 
The  objectors  said,  "These  men  did  not  fight."  David,  with  a  mag- 
nanimous heart,  replied,  "As  his,,part  is  thatgoeth  down  to  the  battle, 
so  shall  his  part  be  that  tarrieth  by  the  stuff." 

OUR   LOST   TREASURES. 

This  subject  is  practically  suggestive  to  me.  Thank  God,  in  these 
times  a  man  can  go  off  on  a  journey,  and  be  gone  weeks  and  months, 
and  come  back  and  see  his  house  untouched  of  incendiary,  and  have 
his  family  on  the  step  to  greet  him,  if  by  telegram  he  has  foretold  the 
moment  of  his  coming.  But  there  are  Amalekitish  disasters,  and 
there  are  Amalekitish  diseases,  that  sometimes  come  down  upon  one's 
home,  making  as  devastating  work  as  the  day  when  Ziklag  took  fire. 

Many  modern  homes  have  been  broken  up.  No  battering-ram 
smote  in  the  door,  no  iconoclast  crumbled  the  statues,  no  flame  leaped 
amidst  the  curtains  ;  but  so  far  as  all  the  joy  and  merriment  that  once 
belonged  to  that  house  are  concerned,  the  home  has  departed.  Armed 
diseases  came  down  upon  the  quietness  of  the  scene — scarlet  fevers, 
or  pleurisies,  or  consumptions,  or  undefined  disorders  came  and  seized 
upon  some  members  of  that  family,  and  carried  them  away.  Ziklag  in 
ashes !  And  you  go  about,  sometimes  weeping  and  sometimes 


CAPTIVES  SE  T  FREE.  2 95 

enraged,  wanting  to  get  back  your  loved  ones  as  much  as  David  and 
his  men  wanted  to  reconstruct  their  despoiled  households.  Ziklag  in 
ashes  !  Some  of  you  were  away  from  home.  You  counted  the  days 
of  your  absence.  Every  day  seemed  as  long  as  a  week.  Oh,  how  glad 
you  were  when  the  time  came  for  you  to  go  aboard  the  steamboat  or. 
rail-car  and  start  for  home  !  You  arrived.  You  went  up  the  street' 
where  your  dwelling  was,  and  in  the  night  you  put  your  hand  on  the 
door-bell,  and,  behold  !  it  was  wrapped  with  the  signal  of  bereavement, 
and  you  found  that  Amalekitish  Death,  which  has  devastated  a  thou- 
sand other  households,  had  blasted  yours.  You  went  about  weeping 
amidst  the  desolation  of  your  once  happy  home,  thinking  of  the  bright 
eyes  closed,  and  the  noble  hearts  stopped,  and  the  gentle  hands  folded, 
and  you  wept  until  you  had  no  more  power  to  weep.  Ziklag  in  ashes  ! 

A  gentleman  went  to  a  friend  of  mine  in  the  city  of  Washington, 
and  asked  that  through  him  he  might  get  a  consulship  to  some  foreign 
port.  My  friend  said  to  him,  "What  do  you  want  to  go  away  from 
your  beautiful  home  for,  into  a  foreign  port?  "  "  Oh,"  he  replied,  "  my 
home  is  gone  !  My  six  children  are  dead  !  I  must  get  away,  sir,  I  can't 
stand  it  in  this  country  any  longer."  Ziklag  in  ashes  ! 

Why  is  it  that  in  almost  every  assemblage  black  is  the  predomi- 
nant color  of  the  apparel  ?  Is  it  because  you  do  not  like  saffron  or 
brown  or  violet ?  Oh,  no!  You  say,  "The  world  is  not  so  bright 
to  us  as  it  once  was"  ;  and  there  is  a  story  of  silent  voices,  and  of 
still  feet,  and  of  loved  ones  gone,  and  when  you  look  over  the  hills, 
expecting  only  beauty  and  loveliness,  you  find  only  devastation  and 
woe.  Ziklag  in  ashes  ! 

In  Ulster  county,  New  York,  the  village  church  was  decorated 
until  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers  was  almost  bewildering.  The  maidens 
of  the  village  had  emptied  the  place  of  flowers  upon  one  marriage  altar. 
One  of  their  own  number  was  affianced  to  a  minister  of  Christ,  who 
had  come  to  take  her  to  his  home.  With  hands  joined,  amidst  a  con- 
gratulatory audience,  the  vows  were  taken.  In  three  days  from  that 
time  one  of  those  who  stood  at  the  altar  exchanged  earth  for  heaven. 
The  wedding  march  broke  down  into  the  funeral  dirge.  There  were 
not  enough  flowers  now  for  the  coffin  lid,  because  they  had  all  been 
taken  for  the  bridal  hour. 

The  dead  minister  of  Christ  was  brought  to  another  village.  He 
had  gone  out  from  them  less  than  a  week  before  in  his  strength ;  now 


296  CAPTIVES  SET  FREE. 

he  came  home  lifeless.  The  whole  church  bewailed  him.  The  solemn 
procession  moved  around  to  look  upon  the  still  face  that  once  had 
beamed  with  messages  of  salvation.  Little  children  were  lifted  up  to 
look  at  him.  And  some  of  those  whom  he  had  comforted  in  days  of 
sorrow,  when  they  passed  that  silent  form,  made  the  place  dreadful 
with  their  weeping.  Another  village  emptied  of  its  flowers — some  of 
them  put  in  the  shape  of  a  cross  to  symbolize  his  hope,  others  put  in 
the  shape  of  a  crown  to  symbolize  his  triumph.  A  hundred  lights 
blown  out  in  one  strong  gust  from  the  open  door  of  a  sepulcher. 
Ziklag  in  ashes  ! 

HOW    TO    RECOVER   THEM. 

Would  you  recover  the  loved  and  the  lost  who  have  been 
snatched  from  your  homes  ?  Then  you  must  travel  the  same  way  they 
went.  No  sooner  had  the  half-dead  Egyptian  been  resuscitated  than  he 
pointed  the  way  the  captors  and  the  captives  had  gone,  and  David  and 
his  men  followed  after.  So  our  Christian  friends  have  gone  into 
another  country,  and  if  we  want  to  reach  their  companionship  we  must 
take  the  same  road.  They  repented  ;  we  must  repent.  They  prayed  ; 
we  must  pray.  They  trusted  in  Christ ;  we  must  trust  in  Christ.  They 
lived  a  religious  life ;  we  must  live  a  religious  life.  They  were  in  some 
things  like  ourselves.  I  know,  now  that  they  are  gone,  that  there  is  a 
halo  around  their  names  ;  but  they  had  their  faults.  They  said  and 
did  things  they  ought  never  to  have  said  or  done.  They  were  some- 
times rebellious,  sometimes  cast  down.  They  were  far  from  being 
perfect.  So  I  suppose  that  when  we  are  gone,  some  things  in  us  that 
are  now  only  tolerable  may  seem  almost  resplendent.  But  as  they 
were  like  us  in  deficiencies,  we  ought  to  be  like  them  in  taking  a  super- 
nal Christ  to  make  up  for  the  deficits.  Had  it  not  been  for  Jesus  they 
would  have  all  perished  ;  but  Christ  confronted  them,  and  said,  "  I  am 
the  way,"  and  they  took  it. 

I  have  also  to  say  that  the  path  that  these  captives  trod  was  a 
troubled  path,  and  that  David  and  his  men  had  to  go  over  the  same 
difficult  way.  While  these  captives  were  being  taken  off,  they  said, 
"Oh,  we  are  so  tired  ;  we  are  so  sick  ;  we  are  so  hungry  !  "  But  the 
men  who  had  charge  of  them  said,  "Stop  this  crying.  Go  on!" 
David  and  his  men  also  found  it  a  hard  way.  They  had  to  travel  it. 
It  is  through  much  tribulation  that  we  are  to  enter  into  the  kingdom. 


CAPTIVES  SET  FREE.  297 

How  our  loved  ones  had  to  struggle  !  how  their  old  hearts  ached  !  how 
sometimes  they  had  a  tussle  for  bread  !  In  our  childhood  we  wandered 
why  there  were  so  many  wrinkles  on  their  faces.  We  did  no1:  know 
that  what  were  called  "crow's  feet"  on  their  faces  were  the  marks  of 
the  black  raven  of  trouble. 

Did  you  never  hear  the  old  people,  seated  by  the  evening  fire,  talk 
over  their  early  trials,  their  hardships,  the  accidents,  the  burials,  the 
disappointments,  the  empty  flour-barrel  when  there  were  so  many 
hungry  ones  to  feed,  the  sickness  almost  unto  death,  where  the  next 
dose  of  morphine  decided  between  ghastly  bereavement  and  an  un- 
broken home  circle  ?  Oh,  yes  ;  it  was  trouble  that  whitened  their  hair. 
!t  was  trouble  that  shook  the  cup  in  their  hands.  It  was  trouble  that 
washed  the  luster  from  their  eyes  with  the  rain  of  tears  until  they 
needed  spectacles.  It  was  trouble  that  made  the  cane  a  necessity  for 
their  journey.  Do  you  not  remember  seeing  your  old  mother  sitting,  on 
some  rainy  day,  looking  out  of  the  window,  her  elbow  on  the  window- 
sill,  her  hand  to  her  brow — looking  out,  not  seeing  the  falling  shower 
at  all,  (you  well  knew  that  she  was  looking  into  the  distant  past,)  until 
the  apron  came  up  to  her  eyes,  because  the  memory  was  too  much  for 
her? 

"  Oft  the  big,  unbidden  tear, 

Stealing  down  the  furrowed  cheek, 
Told  in  eloquence  sincere, 

Tales  of  woe  they  could  not  speak. 
But  this  scene  of  weeping  o'er, 

Past  this  scene  of  toil  and  pain, 
They  shall  feel  distress  no  more— 

Never,  never  weep  again." 

"Who  are  these  under  the  altar?  "  the  question  was  asked,  and 
the  response  came  :  "  These  are  they  which  came  out  of  great  tribula- 
tion, and  have  washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb."  Our  friends  went  by  a  path  of  tears  into  glory.  Be 
tnot  surprised  if  we  have  to  travel  the  same  pathway. 

THE     DECISIVE    BATTLE. 

If  we  want  to  win  the  society  of  our  friends  in  heaven,  we  will 
not  only  have  to  travel  a  path  of  faith  and  a  path  of  tribulation,  but  we 
will  also  have  to  positively  battle  for  their  companionship.  David  and 
his  men  never  wanted  sharp  swords  and  invulnerable  shields  and  thick 
breastplates  so  much  as  they  wanted  them  on  the  day  when  they  came 


298  CAPTIVES  SET  FREE. 

down  upon  the  Amalekites.     If  they  had  lost  that  battle,  they  never 
would  have  got  their  families  back.      I  suppose  that  one  glance  at 
their  loved  ones  in  captivity  hurled  them  into  the  battle  with  ten-fold 
courage  and  energy.     They  said  :  "  We  must  win  it.     Everything  de- 
pends upon  it.     Let  each  one  take  a  man  on  point  of  spear  or  sword. 
We  must  win  it."     I  have  to  tell  you  that  between  us  and  the  coming 
into  the  companionship  of  our  loved  ones  who  are  departed  there  is  an 
Austerlitz,  there  is  a  Gettysburg,  there  is  a  Waterloo — war  with  the 
world,  war  with  the  flesh,  war  with  the  devil.     We  have  either  to  con- 
quer our  troubles,  or  our  troubles  will  conquer  us.     David  will  either 
slay  the  Amalekites,  or  the  Amalekites  will  slay  David.     And  yet  is 
not  the  fort  to  be  taken  worth  all  the  pain,  all  the  peril,  all  the  besiege- 
ment  ?     Look  !     who  are  they  on  the  bright  hills  of  heaven  yonder  ? 
There  they  are,   those  who  sat  at  your  own  table.     There  they  are, 
those  whom  you  rocked  in  infancy  in  the  cradle,  or  hushed  to  sleep  in 
your  arms.     There  they  are,  those  in  whose  life  your  life  was  bound 
up.     There  they  are,  their  brows  more  radiant  than  ever  before  you 
saw  them,  their  lips  waiting  for  the  kiss  of  heavenly  greeting,  their 
cheeks  roseate  with  the  health  of  eternal  summer,  their  hands  beckoning 
you  up  the  steep,  their  feet  bounding  with  the  mirth  of  heaven.     The 
pallor  of  their  last  sickness   is  gone   out   of  their  face,    and  they  are 
never  more  to  be  sick,  never  more  to  cough,  never  more  to  limp,  never 
more  to  be  old,  never  more  to  weep.     They  are  watching  from  those 
heights  to  see  if  through  Christ  you  can  take  that  fort,  and  whether  you 
will  rush  in  upon  them — victors.     They  know  that  upon  this  battle  de- 
pends whether  you  will  ever  join  their  society.     Up  !     Strike  harder  ! 
Charge  more  bravely  !     Remember  that  every  inch  you  gain  puts  you, 
so  much  further  on  toward  that  heavenly  reunion. 

If  some  day  you  should  hear  the  cannonade  of  a  foreign  navy 
coming  through  the  Narrows  to  despoil  our  city,  and  if  they  really  should 
succeed  in  carrying  our  families  away  from  us,  how  long  would  we 
take  before  we  resolved  to  go  after  them  ?  Every  weapon,  whether 
fresh  from  Springfield  or  old  and  rusty  in  the  garret,  would  be 
brought  out,  and  we  would  urge  one  another  on,  and,  coming  in  front 
'of  the  foe,  we  would  look  at  them,  and  then  look  at  our  families,  and 
the  cry  would  be,  "  Victory  or  death  !  "  and  when  the  ammunition  was 
gone,  we  would  take  the  captors  on  the  point  of  the  bayonet  or  under 
the  breech  of  the  gun.  If  you  would  make  such  a  struggle  for  the 


di\d  Be  led 

l^  "peace: 


PEACE   AND  JOY 


299 


THE  NAME   OF  THE  LORD 


300 


CAPTIVES  $R  T  FREE.  301 

getting  back  of  your  earthly  friends,  will  you  not  make  as  much  strug- 
gle for  the  gaining  of  the  eternal  companionship  of  your  heavenly 
friends  ?  Oh,  yes !  we  must  join  them.  We  must  sit  in  their  holy 
society.  We  must  sing  with  them  the  new  song.  We  must  celebrate 
with  them  the  triumph.  Let  it  never  be  told  on  earth  or  in  heaven  that 
David  and  his  men  pushed  out  with  braver  hearts  for  the  getting  back 
of  their  earthly  friends  for  a  few  years  on  earth  than  we  to  get  our 
departed  ! 

You  say  that  all  this  implies  that  our  departed  Christian  friends 
are  alive.  Why,  had  you  any  idea  they  were  dead  ?  They  have  only 
moved.  If  you  should  go  on  the  second  of  May  to  a  house  where  one  of 
your  friends  lived,  and  found  him  gone,  you  would  not  think  that  he  was 
dead.  You  would  inquire  next  door  where  he  had  moved  to.  Our  de- 
parted Christian  friends  have  only  taken  another  house.  The  secret 
is  that  they  are  richer  now  than  they  once  were,  and  can  afford  a  better 
residence.  They  once  drank  out  of  earthenware  ;  they  now  drink  from 
the  King's  chalice.  "Joseph  is  yet  alive,"  and  Jacob  will  go  up  and 
see  him.  Living,  are  they?  Why,  if  a  man  can  live  in  this  damp, 
dark  dungeon  of  earthly  captivity,  can  he  not  live  where  he  breathes 
the  bracing  atmosphere  of  the  mountains  of  heaven  ?  Oh,  yes,  they 
ar~  living  ! 

REWARD    FOR   THE    WEARY. 

But  I  must  not  forget  those  two  hundred  men  who  fainted  by  the 
t>ook  Besor.  They  could  not  take  another  step  farther.  Their  feet 
were  sore  ;  their  heads  ached  ;  their  entire  nature  was  exhausted.  Be- 
s:des  that,  they  were  broken-hearted  because  their  homes  were  gone. 
Ziklag  in  ashes !  And  yet  David,  when  he  comes  up  to  them,  divides 
the  spoils  among  them.  He  says  they  shall  have  some  of  the  jewels, 
some  of  the  robes,  some  of  the  treasures.  I  see  hundreds  around  me 
who  have  fainted  by  the  brook  Besor — the  brook  of  tears.  You  feel 
as  if  you  could  not  take  another  step  farther,  as  though  you  could 
never  look  up  again.  But  I  am  going  to  imitate  David,  and  divide 
among  you  some  glorious  trophies.  Here  is  a  robe  :  "  All  things  work 
together  for  good,  to  them  that  love  God."  Wrap  yourself  in  that  glorious 
promise.  Here  is  for  your  neck  a  string  of  pearls,  made  out  of  crys- 
tallized tears  :  "  Weeping  may  endure  for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  in 
the  morning."  Here  is  a  coronet:  "  Be  thou  faithful  unto  death,  and 
I  will  give  thee  a  crown  of  life."  O  ye  fainting  ones  by  the  brook 


302  CAP TIVES  SE T  FRE E. 

Besor,  dip  your  blistered  feet  in  the  running  stream  of  God's  mercy. 
Bathe  your  brow  at  the  wells  of  salvation.  Soothe  your  wounds  with 
the  balsam  that  exudes  from  the  trees  of  life.  God  will  not  utterly  cast 
you  off,  O  broken-hearted  man,  O  broken-hearted  woman,  fainting  by 
the  brook  Besor. 

A  shepherd  finds  that  his  musical  pipe  is  bruised.  He  says:  "I 
can't  get  any  more  music  out  of  this  instrument,  so  I  will  just  break  it 
and  throw  it  away.  Then  I  will  get  another  reed,  and  I  will  play  music 
on  that."  But  God  says  He  will  not  cast  you  off  because  all  the  music 
has  gone  out  of  your  soul.  "The  bruised  reed  He  will  not  break." 
As  far  as  I  can  tell  the  diagnosis  of  your  disease,  you  want  Divine 
nursing,  and  it  is  promised  you  :  "  As  one  whom  his  mother  comforteth, 
so  will  I  comfort  you."  God  will  see  you  all  the  way  through,  O 
troubled  soul,  and  when  you  come  down  to  the  Jordan  of  death,  you 
will  find  it  to  be  as  thin  a  brook  as  Besor ;  for  Dr.  Robinson  says  that, 
in  April,  Besor  dries  up,  and  there  is  no  brook  at  all.  And  in  your  last 
moment  you  will  be  as  placid  as  the  Kentucky  minister  who  went  up  to 
God,  saying,  in  the  dying  hour:  "Write  to  my  sister  Kate,  and  tell  her 
not  to  be  worried  and  frightened  about  the  story  of  the  horrors  around 
the  death-bed.  Tell  her  there  is  not  a  word  of  truth  in  it,  for  I  am 
there  now,  and  Jesus  is  with  me,  and  I  find  it  a  very  happy  way  ;  not 
because  I  am  a  good  man,  for  I  am  not ;  I  am  nothing  but  a  poor, 
miserable  sinner ;  but  I  have  an  Almighty  Saviour,  and  both  of  his 
arms  are  around  me." 


THE  MARRIAGE  AT  CANA. 


WE  are  to-day  at  the  wedding  in  Cana  of  Galilee.  Jesus  and  'M<* 
mother  have  been  invited.  It  is  evident  that  there  are  more 
people  there  than  were  expected.  Either  some  people  have 
come  who  were  not  invited,  or  more  invitations  have  been  sent  out 
than  it  was  supposed  would  be  accepted.  Of  course  there  is  not 
enough  supply  of  wine.  You  know  that  there  is  nothing  more  embar- 
rassing to  a  housekeeper  than  a  scant  supply.  Jesus  sees  the  embar- 
rassment, and  He  comes  up  immediately  to  relieve  it.  He  sees  standing 
six  water-pots.  He  orders  the  servants  to  fill  them  with  water,  then 
waves  his  hand  over  the  water,  and  immediately  it  is  wine — real  wine. 
Taste  of  it,  and  see  for  yourselves  ;  no  logwood  in  it,  no  strychnine  in 
it,  but  first-rate  wine — wine  so  good  that  the  ruler  of  the  feast  tastes  it 
and  says :  "Why,  this  is  really  better  than  anything  we  have  had! 
Thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine  until  now."  Beautiful  miracle !  A  prize 
was  offered  to  the  person  who  should  write  the  best  essay  about  the 
miracle  in  Cana.  Long  manuscripts  were  presented  in  the  competition, 
but  a  true  poet  won  the  prize  by  just  this  one  line  descriptive  of  the 
miracle : 

"  The  conscious  water  saw  its  God,  and  blushed. ' 
LESSONS   OF  THE    MIRACLE. 

We  learn  from  this  miracle,  in  the  first  place,  that  Christ  has  sym- 
pathy with  housekeepers.  You  might  have  thought  that  Jesus  would 
have  said  :  "  I  cannot  be  bothered  with  this  household  deficiency  of 
wine.  It  is  not  for  me,  Lord  of  heaven  and  of  earth,  to  become  caterer 
to  this  feast.  I  have  vaster  things  than  this  to  attend  to."  Not  so  said 
Jesus.  The  wine  gave  out,  and  Jesus,  by  miraculous  power,  came  to 
the  rescue.  Does  there  ever  come  a  scant  supply  in  your  household  ? 

303 


304  THE  MARRIAGE  AT  CANA. 

Have  you  to  make  a  very  close  calculation  ?  Is  it  hard  work  for  you 
to  carry  on  things  decently  and  respectably?  If  so,  don't  sit  down 
and  cry.  Don't  go  out  and  fret ;  but  go  to  Him  who  stood  in  the 
house  in  Cana  of  Galilee.  Pray  in  the  parlor  !  Pray  in  the  kitchen  ! 
Let  there  be  no  room  in  all  your  house  unconsecrated  by  the  voice  of 
prayer. 

I  learn  also  from  this  miracle  that  Christ  does  things  in  abundance. 
I  think  a  small  supply  of  wine  would  have  made  up  for  the  deficiency. 
I  think  certainly  they  must  have  had  enough  for  half  of  the  guests. 
One  gallon  of  wine  will  do  ;  certainly  five  gallons  will  be  enough  ;  cer- 
tainly ten.  But  Jesus  goes  on,  and  He  gives  them  thirty  gallons,  and 
torty  gallons,  and  fifty  gallons,  and  seventy  gallons,  and  one  hundred 
gallons,  and  one  hundred  and  thirty  gallons  of  the  very  best  wine. 

It  is  just  like  Him  to  do  everything  on  the  largest  and  most  gen- 
erous scale.  Does  Christ,  our  Creator,  go  forth  to  make  leaves  ?  He 
makes  them  by  the  whole  forest  full ;  notched  like  the  fern,  or  silvered 
like  the  aspen,  or  broad  like  the  palm  ;  thickets  in  the  tropics,  Oregon 
forests.  Does  He  go  forth  to  make  flowers  ?  He  makes  plenty  of 
them  ;  they  flame  from  the  hedge,  they  hang  from  the  top  of  the  grape- 
vine in  blossoms,  they  roll  in  the  blue  wave  of  the  violets,  they  toss 
their  white  surf  into  the  spiraea — enough  to  have  for  every  child's  hand 
a  flower,  enough  to  make  for  every  brow  a  chaplet,  enough  to  cover 
up  with  beauty  the  ghastliness  of  all  the  graves.  Does  He  go  forth  to 
create  water?  He  pours  it  out,  not  by  the  cupful,  but  by  a  river  full, 
a  lake  full,  an  ocean  full,  pouring  it  out  until  all  the  earth  has  enough 
to  drink,  and  enough  with  which  to  wash. 

Does  Jesus,  our  Lord,  provide  redemption?  It  is  not  a  little  sal- 
vation for  this  one,  a  little  for  that,  and  a  little  for  the  other,  but  enough 
for  all — "  Whosoever  will,  let  him  come."  Each  man  can  have  an 
ocean  full  for  himself.  Promises  for  the  young,  promises  for  the  old, 
promises  for  the  lowly,  promises  for  the  blind,  for  the  halt,  for  the  out- 
cast, for  the  abandoned.  Pardon  for  all,  comfort  for  all,  mercy  for  all, 
heaven  for  all ;  not  merely  a  cupful  of  Gospel  supply,  but  one  hundred 
and  thirty  gallons.  Aye,  the  tears  of  godly  repentance  are  all  gathered 
up  into  God's  bottle,  and  some  day,  standing  before  the  throne,  we 
will  lift  our  cup  of  delight  and  ask  that  it  be  filled  with  the  wine  of 
heaven  ;  and  Jesus,  from  that  bottle  of  tears,  will  begin  to  pour  in  the 
cup,  and  we  will  cry,  "  Stop,  Jesus,  we  do  not  want  to  drink  our  own 


THE   BREAD   THAT   COMETH   DOWN   FROM   HEAVEN 
20  305 


3o6  THE  MARRIAGE  AT  CANA. 

tears  ! "  and  Jesus  will  say, ' '  Know  ye  not  that  the  tears  of  earth  are  the 
wine  of  heaven  ?  "  Sorrow  may  endure,  but  joy  cometh  in  the  morning. 

HIDE   YOUR  SORROWS. 

I  remark  further :  Jesus  does  not  shadow  the  joys  of  others  with  his 
own  griefs.  He  might  have  sat  down  in  that  wedding  and  said:  "I 
have  so  much  trouble,  so  much  poverty,  so  much  persecution,  and  the 
cross  is  corning ;  I  shall  not  rejoice,  and  the  gloom  of  my  face  and  of 
my  sorrows  shall  be  cast  over  all  this  group."  So  said  not  Jesus. 
He  said  to  Himself:  "Here  are  two  persons  starting  out  in  married 
life.  Let  it  be  a  joyful  occasion.  I  will  hide  my  own  griefs.  I  will 
kindle  their  joy."  There  are  many  not  so  wise  as  that.  I  know  a 
household  where  there  are  many  little  children,  yet  where  for  two  years 
the  musical  instrument  has  been  kept  shut  because  there  has  been 
trouble  in  the  house.  Alas  for  the  folly!  Parents  saying  :  "We  will 
have  no  Christmas  tree  this  coming  holiday  because  there  has  been 
trouble  in  the  house.  Hush  that  laughing  upstairs!  How  can  there 
be  any  joy  when  there  has  been  so  much  trouble  ?''  And  so  they  make 
everything  consistently  doleful,  and  send  their  sons  and  daughters  to 
ruin  with  the  gloom  they  throw  around  them. 

Oh,  my  dear  friends,  do  you  not  know  that  those  children  will  have 
trouble  enough  of  their  own  after  a  while  ?  Be  glad  they  cannot  ap- 
preciate all  yours.  Keep  back  the  cup  of  bitterness  from  youi 
daughter's  lips.  When  your  head  is  down  in  the  grass  of  the  tombv 
poverty  may  come  to  her,  betrayal  to  her,  bereavement  to  her.  Keep 
back  the  sorrows  as  long  as  you  can.  Do  you  not  know  that  that  son 
may,  after  a  while,  have  his  heart  broken  ?  Stand  between  him  and  all 
harm.  You  may  not  fight  his  battles  long ;  fight  them  while  you  may. 
Throw  not  the  chill  of  your  own  despondency  over  his  soul ;  rather  be 
like  Jesus,  who  came  to  the  wedding  hiding  his  own  grief  and  kindling 
the  joys  of  others.  So  I  have  seen  the  sun,  on  a  dark  day,  struggling 
amidst  clouds,  black,  ragged  and  portentous,  but  after  a  while,  with 
golden  pry,  it  heaved  back  the  blackness  ;  and  the  sun  laughed  to  the 
lake,  and  the  lake  laughed  to  the  sun,  and  from  horizon  to  horizon, 
under  the  saffron  sky,  the  water  was  all  turned  into  wine. 

LUXURIES  OF   LIFE. 

I  learn  from  this  miracle  that  Christ  is  not  impatient  with  the 
luxuries  of  life.  It  was  not  necessary  that  they  should  have  that  wine. 


307 


3o8  THE  MARRIAGE  AT  CANA. 

Hundreds  of  people  have  been  married  without  any  wine.  We  do  not 
read  that  any  of  the  other  provisions  fell  short.  When  Christ  made 
the  wine  it  was  not  a  necessity,  but  a  positive  luxury.  I  do  not  believe 
that  He  wants  us  to  eat  hard  bread  and  sleep  on  hard  mattresses,  un- 
less we  like  them  the  best.  I  think,  if  circumstances  will  allow,  we 
have  a  right  to  the  luxuries  of  dress,  the  luxuries  of  diet,  and  the 
luxuries  of  residence.  There  is  no  more  religion  in  an  old  coat  than 
in  a  new  one.  We  can  serve  God  drawn  by  golden-plated  harness  as 
certainly  as  when  we  go  a-foot.  Jesus  Christ  will  dwell  with  us  under 
a  fine  ceiling  as  well  as  under  a  thatched  roof;  and  when  you  can  get 
wine  made  out  of  water,  drink  as  much  of  it  as  you  can. 

What  is  the  difference  between  a  Chinese  mud  hovel  and  an 
American  home?  What  is  the  difference  between  the  rough  bear- 
skins of  the  Russian  boor  and  the  outfit  of  an  American  gentleman  ? 
No  difference,  except  that  which  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, has  caused.  When  Christ  shall  have  vanquished  all  the  world, 
I  suppose  every  house  will  be  a  mansion,  and  every  garment  a  robe, 
and  every  horse  an  arch-necked  courser,  and  every  carriage  a  glittering 
vehicle,  and  every  man  a  king,  and  every  woman  a  queen,  and  the 
whole  earth  a  paradise ;  the  glories  of  the  natural  world  harmonizing 
with  the  glories  of  the  material  world,  until  the  very  bells  of  the  horses 
shall  jingle  the  praises  of  the  Lord. 

I  remark  again  that  Christ  comes  to  us  in  the  hour  of  our  extremity. 
He  knew  the  wine  was  giving  out  before  there  was  any  embarrassment 
or  mortification.  Why  did  He  not  perform  the  miracle  sooner?  Why 
wait  until  it  was  all  gone,  and  no  help  could  come  from  any  source, 
and  then  come  in  and  perform  the  miracle  ?  This  is  Christ's  way ; 
and  when  He  did  come  in,  at  the  hour  of  extremity,  He  made  first-rate 
wine,  so  that  they  cried  out,  "Thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine  until 
now."  Jesus  in  the  hour  of  extremity  !  He  seems  to  prefer  that  hour. 

In  a  Christian  home  in  Poland  great  poverty  had  come,  and  on  the 
next  day  the  man  would  be  obliged  to  move  out  of  the  house  with  his 
whole  family.  That  night  he  knelt  with  his  family  and  prayed  to  God. 
While  they  were  kneeling  in  prayer  there  was  a  tap  on  the  window- 
pane.  They  opened  the  window,  and  there  was  a  raven  that  the  family 
had  fed  and  trained,  and  it  had  in  its  bill  a  ring  all  set  with  precious 
stones,  which  was  found  out  to  be  a  ring  belonging  to  the  royal  family. 
It  was  taken  up  to  the  king's  residence,  and  for  the  honesty  of  the 


'THE  MARRIA GE  AT  CANA.  3°9 

man  in  bringing  it  back  he  had  a  house  given  to  him,  and  a  garden, 
and  a  farm.  Who  was  it  that  sent  the  raven  to  tap  on  the  window? 
The  same  God  that  sent  the  raven  to  feed  Elijah  by  the  brook  Cherith. 
Christ  in  the  hour  of  extremity  ! 

WEDDING   OF   CHRIST  AND    THE   CHURCH. 

Jesus  has  invited  us  to  a  grand  wedding  to  be  celebrated  when  he 
comes.  You  know  the  Bible  says  that  the  Church  is  the  Lamb's 
wife,  and  the  Lord  will  after  a  while  come  to  fetch  her  home.  There 
will  be  gleaming  of  torches  in  the  sky,  and  the  trumpets  of  God  will 
ravish  the  air  with  their  music,  and  Jesus  will  stretch  out  his  hand,  and 
the  Church,  robed  in  white,  will  put  aside  her  veil,  and  look  up  into 
the  face  of  her  Lord  the  King,  and  the  bridegroom  will  say  to  the 
bride  :  "Thou  hast  been  faithful  through  all  these  years  !  The  mansion 
is  ready !  Come  home  !  Thou  art  fair,  my  love  !"  Then  He  will  put 
upon  her  brow  the  crown  of  dominion,  and  the  table  will  be  spread, 
and  it  will  reach  across  the  skies,  and  the  mighty  ones  of  heaven  will 
come  in,  garlanded  with  beauty  and  striking  their  cymbals  ;  and  the 
bridegroom  and  bride  will  stand  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  the 
banqueters,  looking  up,  will  wonder  and  admire,  and  say :  "  That  is 
Jesus  the  bridegroom  ;  but  the  scar  on  his  brow  is  covered  with  the 
coronet,  and  the  stab  in  his  side  is  covered  with  a  robe !  And 
that  is  the  bride  !  The  weariness  of  her  earthly  woe  is  lost  in  the 
flush  of  her  wedding  triumph !" 


NATURE'S  LESSONS. 


WHEN   Eve  touched  the  forbidden  tree  it  seemed  as  if  the  sin- 
ful contact  had  smitten  not  only  that  tree,  but  as  if  the  air 
had  caught  the  pollution  from  the  leaves,  and  as  if  the  sap 
had  carried  the  virus  down   into  the  very  soil  until  the  entire  earth 
reeked  with  the  leprosy.  Under  that  sinful  touch  nature  withered.    The 
inanimate  creation,  as  if  aware  of  the  damage  done  it,  sent  up  the  thorn 
and  brier  and  nettle  to  wound  and  fiercely  oppose  the  human  race. 

Now  as  the  physical  earth  felt  the  effects  of  the  first  transgression, 
so  it  shall  also  feel  the  effect  of  the  Saviour's  mission.  As  from  that 
one  tree  in  Paradise  a  blight  went  forth  through  the  entire  earth,  so 
from  one  tree  on  Calvary  another  force  shall  speed  out  to  interpene- 
trate and  check,  subdue  and  override  the  evil.  In  the  end  it  shall  be 
found  that  the  tree  of  Calvary  has  more  potency  than  the  tree  of  Para- 
dise. As  the  nations  are  evangelized,  I  think  a  corresponding  change 
will  be  effected  in  the  natural  world.  I  verily  believe  that  the  trees, 
and  the  birds,  and  the  rivers,  and  the  skies  will  have  their  millennium. 
If  man's  sin  affected  the  ground,  and  the  vegetation,  and  the  atmos- 
phere, shall  Christ's  work  be  less  powerful  or  less  extensive  ? 

Oh,  what  harvests  shall  be  reaped  when  neither  drouth,  nor  ex- 
cessive rain,  nor  mildew,  nor  infesting  insects  shall  arrest  their  growth, 
and  the  utmost  capacity  of  the  fields  for  production  shall  be  tested  by 
an  intelligent  and  athletic  yeomanry.  Thrift  and  competency  char- 
acterizing the  world's  inhabitants,  their  dwelling-places  shall  be 
graceful  and  healthy  and  adorned.  Tree  and  arbor  and  grove  round 
about  will  look  as  if  Adam  and  Eve  had  got  back  to  Paradise.  Great 
cities,  now  neglected  and  unwashed,  shall  be  orderly,  adorned  with 
architectural  symmetry,  and  connected  with  far  distant  seaports  by 
present  modes  of  transportation  carried  to  their  greatest  perfection, 
(310) 


-*'  y  ' 


THE  tawny  eagle  seats  his  callow  brood 
High  on  the  cliff,  and  feasts  his  young  with 
blood: 
On  Snowdon's  rocks,  or  Orkney's  wide  domain, 
Whose  beetling  cliffs  o'erhang  the  western  main, 
The  royal  bird  his  lonely  kingdom  forms, 
Amidst  the  gathering  clouds  and  sullen  storms  ; 
Through  the  wide  waste  of  air  he  darts  his  sight, 
And  holds  his  sounding  pinions  poised  for  flight- 


With  cruel  eye  premeditates  the  war, 
And  marks  his  destined  victim  from  afar  ; 
Descending  in  a  whirlwind  to  the  ground, 
His  pinions  like  the  rush  of  waters  sound : 
The  fairest  of  the  fold  he  bears  away, 
And  to  his  nest  compels  the  struggling  prey ; 
He  scorns  the  game  by  meaner  hunters  tore, 
And  dips  his  talons  in  no  vulgar  gore. 

ANNA  L.  BARBAULD. 


311 


3ia  NATURE'S  LESSONS. 

or  by  new  inventions  yet  to  spring  up  out  of  the  water  or   drop   from 
the  air  at  the  beck  of  a  Morse  or  a  Robert  Fulton  belonging  to  future 

generations. 

NATURE'S  TESTIMONY. 

The  first  contribution  that  nature  gives  to  the  Church  is  her  testi- 
mony in  behalf  of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  This  is  an  age  of  profound 
research.  Nature  cannot  evade  man's  inquiries  as  formerly.  In  the 
chemist's  laboratory  she  is  put  to  the  torture  and  compelled  to  yield 
up  her  mysteries.  Hidden  laws  have  come  out  of  their  hiding-place. 
The  earth  and  the  heavens,  since  they  have  been  ransacked  by 
geologist  and  botanist  and  astronomer,  appear  so  different  from  what 
they  once  were  that  they  may  be  called  "the  new  heavens  and  the 
new  earth." 

This  research  and  discovery  will  have  a  powerful  effect  upon  the 
religious  world.  They  must  either  advance  or  arrest  Christianity,  make 
men  better  or  make  them  worse,  be  the  Church's  honor  or  the  Church's 
overthrow.  Christians,  aware  of  this  in  the  early  ages  of  discovery, 
were  nervous  and  fearful  as  to  the  progress  of  science.  They  feared 
that  some  natural  law,  before  unknown,  would  suddenly  spring 
into  harsh  collision  with  Christianity.  Gunpowder  and  the  gleam  of 
swords  would  not  so  much  have  been  feared  by  religionists  as  electric 
batteries,  voltaic  piles,  and  astronomical  apparatus.  It  was  feared  that 
Moses  and  the  prophets  would  be  run  over  by  skeptical  chemists  and 
philosophers.  Some  of  the  followers  of  Aristotle,  after  the  invention 
of  the  telescope,  refused  to  look  through  that  instrument,  lest  what 
they  saw  should  overthrow  the  teachings  of  that  great  philosopher. 
But  the  Christian  religion  has  no  such  apprehension  now. 

Bring  on  your  telescopes  and  microscopes  and  spectroscopes — 
and  the  more  the  better.  The  God  of  nature  is  the  God  of  the  Bible, 
and  in  all  the  universe  and  in  all  the  eternities  He  has  never  once  con- 
tradicted Himself.  Christian  merchants  endow  universities,  and  in 
them  Christian  professors  instruct  the  children  of  Christian  communi- 
ties. The  warmest  and  most  enthusiastic  friends  of  Christ  are  the 
bravest  and  most  enthusiastic  friends  of  science.  The  Church  re- 
joices as  much  over  every  discovery  as  the  world  rejoices.  Good  men 
have  found  that  there  is  no  war  between  science  and  religion.  That 
which  at  first  seemed  to  be  the  weapon  of  the  infidel  has  turned  out  to 
be  the  weapon  of  the  Christian, 


NA  TURKS  LESSONS.  3  T  ., 

Men  who  have  gone  to  Palestine  infidels  have  come  back  Christians. 
They  who  were  blind  and  deaf  to  the  truth  at  home  have  seemed  to 
see  Christ  again  preaching  upon  Olivet,  and  have  beheld  in  vivid  im- 
agination the  Son  of  God  again  walking  the  hills  about  Jerusalem. 
Caviglia  once  rejected  the  truth,  but  afterward  said  :  "  I  came  to  Egypt, 
and  the  Scriptures  and  the  pyramids  converted  me."  When  I  was  in 
Beyrout,  Syria,  our  beloved  American  missionary,  Rev.  Dr.  Jessup, 
told  me  of  his  friend  who  met  a  skeptic  at  Joppa,  the  seaport  of 
Jerusalem,  and  the  unbeliever  said  to  his  friend  :  "I  am  going  into  the 
Holy  Land  to  show  up  the  folly  of  the  Christian  religion.  I  am  going 
to  visit  all  the  so-called  '  sacred  places '  and  write  them  up,  and  show 
the  world  that  the  New  Testament  is  an  imposition  upon  the  world's 
credulity."  Months  after,  Dr.  Jessup's  friend  met  the  skeptic  at  Bey- 
rout,  after  he  had  completed  his  journey  through  the  Holy  Land. 
"Well,  how  is  it?"  said  the  aforesaid  gentleman  to  the  skeptic.  The 
answer  was  :  "  I  have  seen  it  all,  and  I  tell  you  the  Bible  is  true  !  Yes  ; 
it  is  all  true  !"  The  man  who  went  to  destroy  came  back  to  defend. 

And  from  what  I  myself  saw  during  my  recent  absence,  I  conclude 
that  any  one  who  can  go  through  the  Holy  Land  and  remain  an  unbe- 
liever is  either  a  bad  man  or  an  imbecile.  God  employed  men  to  write 
the  Bible,  but  He  took  many  of  the  same  truths  which  they  recorded 
and  with  his  own  almighty  hand  He  gouged  them  into  the  rocks  and 
drove  them  down  into  dismal  depths,  and,  as  documents  are  put  into 
the  corner-stone  of  a  temple,  so  in  the  very  foundation  of  the  earth  He 
folded  up  and  placed  the  records  of  heavenly  truth.  The  earth's 
corner-stone  was  laid,  like  that  of  other  sacred  edifices,  in  the  name  of 
the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  Author  of 
revelation,  standing  among  the  great  strata,  looked  upon  Moses  and 
said  :  "Let  us  record  for  future  ages  the  world's  history  ;  you  write  it 
there  on  papyrus ;  I  will  write  it  here  on  the  bowlders." 

At  Hawarden,  England,  Mr.  Gladstone,  while  showing  me  his 
trees  during  a  prolonged  walk  through  his  magnificent  park,  pointed 
out  a  sycamore,  and  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  said,  "In  your  visit  to 
the  Holy  Land  did  you  see  any  sycamore  more  impressive  than  that  ?" 
I  confessed  that  I  had  not.  Its  branches  were  not  more  remarkable 
than  its  roots.  It  was  to  such  a  tree  as  this  that  Jesus  pointed  when 
he  wished  to  illustrate  the  power  of  faith.  "Ye  might  say  unto  this 
sycamore  tree,  '  Be  thou  plucked  up  by  the  root  and  be  thou  cast  into 


3 1 4  NA  TURK S  LESSONS. 

the  sea,'  and  it  would  obey  you."  One  reason  why  Christ  has  fascinated 
the  world  as  no  other  teacher,  is  because  instead  of  using  severe  argu- 
ment he  was  always  telling  how  something  in  the  spiritual  world  was 
like  unto  something  in  the  natural  world.  Oh,  these  wonderful  "likes" 
of  our  Lord  !  Like  a  grain  of  mustard  seed.  Like  a  treasure  hid  in 
a  field.  Like  a  merchant  seeking  goodly  pearls.  Like  unto  a  net  that 
was  cast  into  the  sea.  Like  unto  a  householder. 

THE   GREAT  TEACHERS. 

When  Christ  would  teach  the  precision  with  which  he  looks  after 
you,  he  says  he  counts  the  hairs  of  your  head.  Well,  that  is  a  long 
and  tedious  count  if  the  head  have  the  average  endowment.  It  has 
been  found  that  if  the  hairs  of  the  head  be  black  there  are  about  one 
hundred  and  twenty  thousand,  or  if  they  be  flaxen  there  are  about  one 
hundred  and  forty  thousand.  But  God  knows  the  exact  number: 
"  The  hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered."  Would  Christ  impress 
us  with  the  divine  watchfulness  and  care,  he  speaks  of  the  sparrows, 
that  were  a  nuisance  in  those  times.  They  were  caught  by  the  thou- 
sands in  the  net.  They  were  thin  and  scrawny  and  had  comparatively 
no  meat  on  their  bones.  They  seemed  almost  valueless,  whether 
living  or  dead.  Now,  argues  Christ,  if  my  Father  takes  care  of  them, 
will  He  not  take  care  of  you  ?  Christ  would  have  the  Christian,  de- 
spondent over  his  slowness  of  religious  development,  go  to  his  corn- 
field for  a  lesson.  He  watches  first  the  green  shoot  pressing  up  through 
the  clods,  gradually  strengthening  into  a  stalk,  and  last  of  all  the  husk 
swelling  out  with  the  pressure  of  the  corn  :  "  First  the  blade,  then  the 
ear,  after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear." 

Would  Christ  set  forth  the  character  of  those  who  make  great 
profession  of  piety,  but  have  no  fruit,  he  compares  them  to  barren  fig- 
trees,  which  have  very  large  and  showy  leaves,  and  nothing  but  leaves. 
Would  Job  illustrate  deceitful  friendships,  he  speaks  of  brooks  in  those 
climes,  that  wind  about  in  different  directions,  and  dry  up  when  you 
want  to  drink  out  of  them  :  "  My  brethren  have  dealt  deceitfully  as  a 
brook,  and  as  the  stream  of  brooks  they  pass  away."  David,  when  he 
would  impress  us  with  the  despondency  into  which  he  had  sunk,  com- 
pares it  to  a  quagmire  of  those  regions,  through  which  he  had  doubtless 
sometimes  tried  to  walk,  but  sunk  in  up  to  his  neck  ;  and  he  cries,  "I 
sink  in  deep  mire  where  there  is  no  standing."  Would  Habakkukset 


NA  TURK  S  LESSONS.  3 1 5 

forth  the  capacity  whicli  God  gives  the  good  man  to  walk  safely  amid 
the  wildest  perils,  he  points  to  the  wild  animal  called  the  hind  walking 
over  slippery  rocks,  and  leaping  from  wild  crag  to  wild  crag,  by  the 
peculiar  make  of  its  hoofs  able  calmly  to  sustain  itself  in  the  most  dan- 
gerous places  :  "The  Lord  God  is  my  strength,  and  He  will  make  my 
feet  like  hind's  feet." 

Job  makes  all  natural  objects  pay  tribute  to  the  royalty  of  his 
book.  As  you  go  through  some  chapters  of  Job,  you  feel  as  if  it  were 
a  bright  spring  morning,  and,  as  you  see  the  glittering  drops  from  the 
grass  under  your  feet,  you  say  with  that  patriarch,  "  Who  hath  begot- 
ten the  drops  of  the  dew  ?  "  And  now,  as  you  read  on,  you  seem  in 
the  silent  midnight  to  behold  the  waving  of  a  great  light  upon  your 
path,  and  you  look  up  to  find  it  the  aurora  borealis,  which  Job  described 
so  long  ago  as  "the  bright  light  in  the  clouds  and  the  splendor  that 
cometh  out  of  the  north."  As  you  read  on,  there  is  darkness  hurtling 
in  the  heavens,  and  the  showers  break  loose  till  the  birds  fly  for  a 
hiding-place  and  the  mountain  torrents  in  red  fury  foam  over  the  rocky 
shelving,  and  with  the  same  poet  you  exclaim,  "Who  can  number  the 
clouds  in  wisdom,  or  who  can  stay  the  bottles  of  heaven  ?"  As  you 
read  on,  you  feel  yourself  coming  into  frosty  climes,  and,  in  fancy  wading 
through  the  snow,  you  say  with  that  same  inspired  writer,  "Hast  thou 
entered  into  the  treasures  of  the  snow?"  And  while  the  sharp  sleet 
drives  in  your  face,  and  the  hail  stings  your  cheek,  you  quote  him 
again  :  "  Hast  thou  seen  the  treasures  of  the  hail?"  In  the  Psalmist's 
writings  I  hear  the  voices  of  the  sea:  "Deep  calleth  unto  deep"; 
and  the  roar  of  forests:  "The  Lord  shaketh  the  wilderness  of 
Kadesh";  and  the  loud  peal  of  the  black  tempest:  "The  God  of 
glory  thundereth  ";  and  the  rustle  of  the  long  silk  on  the  well-filled 
husks:  "The  valleys  are  covered  with  corn";  and  the  cry  of  wild 
beasts:  "The  young  lions  roar  after  their  prey";  the  hum  of  palm 
trees  and  cedars:  "The  righteous  shall  flourish  like  a  palm  tree; 
he  shall  grow  like  a  cedar  in  Lebanon";  the  sough  of  wings  and 
the  swirl  of  fins:  "  Dominion  over  the  fowl  of  the  air  and  the  fish  of 
the  sea." 

When  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  nature  preaches  thousands  of 
funeral  sermons  from  the  text,  "  We  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf,"  and  scatters 
her  elegies  in  our  path,  we  cannot  help  but  think  of  sickness  and  the 
tomb.  Even  winter,  "being  dead,  yet  speaketh."  The  world  will  not 


3i6  NATURE'S  LESSONS. 

be  argued  into  the  right.  It  will  be  tenderly  illustrated  into  the  right. 
Tell  tnem  what  religion  is  like.  When  the  mother  tried  to  tell  her 
dying  child  what  heaven  was,  she  compared  it  to  light.  "  But  that 
hurts  my  eyes,"  said  the  dying  girl.  Then  the  mother  compared 
heaven  to  music.  "  But  any  sound  hurts  me,  I  am  so  weak,"  said  the 
dying  child.  Then  she  was  told  that  heaven  was  like  a  mother's  arms. 
"Oh,  take  me  there !"  she  said.  "If  it  is  like  mother's  arms,  take 
me  there !"  The  appropriate  simile  had  been  found  at  last. 

PERSONAL   COMFORT. 

Another  contribution  which  the  natural  world  is  making  to  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  is  the  defense  and  aid  which  the  elements  are  com- 
pelled to  give  to  the  Christian  personally.  There  is  no  law  in  nature 
but  is  sworn  for  the  Christian's  defense.  In  Job  this  thought  is  pre- 
sented as  a  bargain  made  between  the  inanimate  creation  and  the 
righteous  man:  "Thou  shalt  be  in  league  with  the  stones  of  the  field." 
What  a  grand  thought  that  the  lightnings,  and  the  tempests,  and  the 
hail,  and  the  frosts,  which  are  the  enemies  of  unrighteousness,  are  all 
marshaled  as  the  Christian's  bodyguard.  They  fight  for  him.  They 
strike  with  an  arm  of  fire  or  clutch  with  fingers  of  ice.  Everlasting 
peace  is  declared  between  the  fiercest  elements  of  nature  and  the  good 
man.  They  may  in  their  fury  seem  to  be  indiscriminate,  smiting  down 
the  righteous  with  the  wicked,  yet  they  cannot  damage  the  Christian's 
soul,  although  they  may  shrivel  his  body.  The  wintry  blast  that  howls 
about  your  dwelling  you  may  call  your  brother,  and  the  south  wind 
coming  up  on  a  June  day  by  way  of  a  flower  garden  you  may  call  your 
sister.  Though  so  mighty  in  circumference  and  diameter,  the  sun  and  the 
moon  have  a  special  charge  concerning  you  :  "  The  sun  shall  not  smite 
thee  by  day,  nor  the  moon  by  night."  Elements  and  forces  hidden  in 
the  earth  are  now  harnessed  and  at  work  in  producing  for  you  food 
and  clothing.  Some  grain-field  that  you  never  saw,  presented  you  this 
day  with  your  morning  meal.  The  great  earth  and  the  heavens  are  the 
busy  loom  at  work  for  you  ;  and  shooting  light,  and  silvery  stream, 
and  sharp  lightning  are  only  woven  threads  in  the  great  loc-m,  with 
God's  foot  on  the  shuttle.  The  same  spirit  that  converted  your  soul, 
has  also  converted  the  elements  from  enmity  towards  you  into  inviola 
ble  friendship ;  and  furthest  star  and  deepest  cavern — regions  of 


BEAUTIFUL,  GARMENTS 


317 


CHLORIS,   GRECIAN   GODDESS  OF  FLOWERS 


318 


NATURE'S  LESSONS.  319 

everlasting  cold  as  well  as  climes  of  eternal  summer — all  have  a  mission 
of  good,  direct  or  indirect,  for  your  spirit. 

If  you  have  a  microscope,  put  under  it  one  drop  of  water,  and 
see  the  insects  floating  about ;  and  when  you  see  that  God  makes 
them,  and  cares  for  them,  and  feeds  them,  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
He  will  take  care  of  you  and  feed  you,  that  all  creation  is  working  for 
your  service,  and  all  things,  the  smallest  and  greatest,  are  symbols  of 
God's  wisdom  and  God's  mercy. 

INFERENCES. 

Now  I  infer  from  this  that  the  study  of  natural  objects  will  increase 
our  religious  knowledge.  If  David  and  Job  and  John  and  Paul  could 
not  afford  to  let  go  without  observation  one  passing  cloud,  or  rift  of 
snow,  or  spring  blossom,  we  cannot  afford  to  let  them  go  without  study. 
Men  and  women  of  God  most  eminent  in  all  ages  for  faith  and  zeal  in- 
dulged in  such  observations — Payson  and  Baxter  and  Doddridge  and 
Hannah  More.  That  man  is  not  worthy  the  name  of  Christian  who 
saunters  listlessly  among  these  magnificent  disclosures  of  divine  power 
around,  beneath,  and  above  us,  stupid  and  uninstructed. 

I  learn  also  from  this  subject  what  an  honorable  position  the 
Christian  occupies,  when  nothing  is  so  great  and  glorious  in  nature  but 
it  is  made  to  edify,  defend,  and  instruct  him.  Hold  up  your  heads 
sons  and  daughters  of  the  Lord  Almighty,  that  I  may  see  how  you 
bear  your  honors.  Though  now  you  may  think  yourself  unbefriended, 
this  spring's  soft  wind,  and  next  summer's  harvest  of  barley,  and  next 
autumn's  glowing  fruits,  and  next  winter's  storms — all  seasons,  all  ele- 
ments, zephyr  and  euroclydon,  rose's  breath  and  thundercloud,  gleam- 
ing light  and  thick  darkness — are  sworn  to  defend  you,  and  cohorts  of 
angels  would  fly  to  deliver  you  from  peril,  and  the  great  God  would 
unsheathe  his  sword  and  arm  the  universe  in  your  cause  rather  than 
that  harm  should  touch  you  with  one  of  its  lightest  fingers.  "  As  the 
mountains  are  around  about  Jerusalem,  so  the  Lord  is  around  about  his 
people  from  this  time  forth  for  evermore." 

Oh,  for  more  sympathy  with  the  natural  world !  Then  we  should 
always  have  a  Bible  open  before  us,  and  we  could  take  a  lesson  from 
the  most  fleeting  circumstances.  Once,  when  a  storm  came  down 
upon  England,  Charles  Wesley  sat  in  a  room  watching  it  through  an 
open  window,  until,  frightened  by  the  lightning  and  the  thunder, 


3*>  NA  TURE'  S  LESSONS. 

a  little  bird  flew  in  and  nestled  in  the  bosom  of  the  sacred  poet 
As  he  gently  stroked  it  and  felt  the  wild  beating  of  its  heart,  he 
turned  to  his  desk  and  wrote  that  hymn  which  will  be  sung  while  the 
world  lasts : 

"  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 

Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly." 

ANIMAL   DELIGHT. 

Out  of  joint  as  nature  may  seem  to  us,  yet  one  of  its  most  striking" 
revelations  is  the  almost  universal  happiness   of  the  animal   creation. 


JOYS  OF  ANIMAL  LIFE. 

On  a  summer  day,  when  the  air  and  the  grass  are  most  populous  with 
life,  you  will  not  hear  a  sound  of  distress  unless,  perchance,  a  heartless 
school-boy  has  robbed  a  bird's  nest,  or  a  hunter  has  broken  a  bird's 
wing,  or  a  pasture  has  been  robbed  of  a  lamb,  and  there  goes  up  a 
bleating  from  the  flocks. 

The  whole  earth  is  filled  with  animal  delight — joy  feathered,  and 
scaled,  and  horned,  and  hoofed.     The  bee  hums  it ;  the  frog  croaks  it ; 


NATURES  LESSONS.  321 

the  squirrel  chatters  it ;  the  quail  whistles  it ;  the  lark  carols  it ;  the 
whale  spouts  it.  The  snail,  the  rhinoceros,  the  grizzly  bear,  the  toad, 
*he  wasp,  the  spider,  the  shell-fish,  have  their  homely  delights — joy  as 
great  to  them  as  our  joy  is  to  us.  Goat  climbing  the  rocks  ;  anaconda 
crawling  through  the  jungle  ;  buffalo  plunging  across  the  prairie  ; 
crocodile  basking  in  tropical  sun  ;  seal  puffing  on  the  ice ;  ostrich 
striding  across  the  desert,  are  so  many  bundles  of  joy ;  they  do  not  go 
moping  or  melancholy  ;  they  are  not  only  half  supplied  ;  God  says  they 
are  filled  with  good. 

The  worm  squirming  through  the  sod  upturned  by  the  plowshare, 
and  the  ants  racing  up  and  down  the  hillock,  are  happy  by  day  and 
happy  by  night.  Take  up  a  drop  of  water  under  the  microscope,  and 
you  will  find  that  within  it  there  are  millions  of  creatures  that  swim  in 
a  hallelujah  of  gladness.  The  sounds  in  nature  that  are  repulsive  to 
our  ears  are  often  only  utterances  of  joy — the  growl,  the  croak,  the 
bark,  the  howl.  The  good  God  made  these  creatures,  thinks  of  them 
ever,  and  will  not  let  a  plowshare  turn  up  a  mole's  nest,  or  fisherman's 
hook  transfix  a  worm,  until,  by  eternal  decree,  its  time  has  come. 

MIGRATION    OF    BIRDS. 

A  few  days  ago  I  entered  Central  Park,  and  the  twitter  and  the 
chirp,  and  the  carol  and  the  call  of  the  birds  were  bewildering.  Where 
were  they  going  ?  I  knew  without  asking.  Going  to  the  south,  going 
to  groves  of  magnolias,  going  to  orange  plantations,  going  among  the 
bananas. 

Have  you  ever  watched  the  birds  at  the  time  of  their  migration  ? 
There  is  a  flock,  and  here  a  flock,  fifty  different  flocks  making  excur- 
sions for  a  few  miles  out,  and  then  coming  back — so  strengthening 
their  wings  for  a  longer  flight,  and  then  coming  back  for  seeming  con- 
sultation. The  fact  is,  they  want  to  know  just  the  time  to  start  south. 
They  must  not  go  too  soon,  for  that  would  leave  our  forests  silent  be- 
fore their  time.  They  must  not  start  too  late,  lest  the  poor  things  may 
be  overcome  on  the  way. 

So  a  squadron  of  birds  sails  out  in  one  direction,  and  comes  back 
and  reports  the  condition  of  the  corn-fields,  and  another  squadron  of 
birds  sails  out  in  another  direction,  and  comes  back  to  report  the  condition 
of  the  ponds  and  rivers,  if  there  be  any  film  of  ice  on  the  waters ;  and 
then  another  squadron  of  birds  sails  out  to  meet  a  squadron  from 

21 


3»a  NATURE'S  LESSORS. 

farther  north,  so  as  to  find  what  weather  we  may  expect  from  the 
Arctics,  and  one  afternoon  they  all  come  together,  until  the  woods  for 
miles  around  are  filled  with  the  feathered  tribe,  and  the  next  morning 
they  start — not  in  flocks,  a  flock  here  and  a  flock  there,  as  before — but 
in  one  great  company,  darkening  the  air  as  they  sweep  over  in  silence 
for  the  most  part,  for  they  have  a  long  voyage  of  air  before  them,  and 


(  NEST    BUILDING    BY    BIRDS 

know  not  what  heat,  or  cold,  or  lightning,  or  tempest  may  cross  their 
path.  On  and  on  across  the  Hudson,  across  the  Chesapeake,  across 
the  Savannah,  across  the  lagoons,  seeking  the  rice  fields  of  the  Caro- 
linas,  the  orange  groves  of  Florida,  the  luxuriant  islands  of  the  West 
Indies,  the  tropical  lowlands  of  far-off  Mexico.  "The  stork  in  the 
heaven  knoweth  her  appointed  time,  and  the  turtle  and  the  crane  and 
the  swallow  observe  the  time  of  her  going." 


NATURE'S  LESSONS.  323 

We  ought  all  to  be  aglee  at  the  thought  of  migration  suggested 
by  the  birds.  We  are  going  to  a  more  genial  clime  when  we  get 
through  with  this.  Going,  not  among  icicles,  but  among  flowers.  But 
let  us  not  be  too  anxious  to  escape  the  rigorous  winter.  The  eternal 
spring  will  come  soon  enough,  and  the  wintry  experience  will  better  fit 
us  for  its  enjoyment. 

We  owe  much  to  winter.  That  is  the  best  season  for  sociality, 
best  for  study,  best  for  church  work.  On  winter  nights  the  stars  are 
brighter.  There  are  longer  evenings  to  read.  It  is  winter  that  devel- 
ops nations.  Perpetual  summer  enervates  and  bedwarfs.  No  great 
things  have  been  done  by  nations  which  had  no  experience  of  frost 
and  cold.  Health  comes  down  horsed  on  the  north  wind.  Most  of  us 
feel  stronger  in  January  than  in  August.  At  the  season  when  we  are 
at  our  best  let  us  be  most  busy  for  God  and  the  welfare  each  of  each. 
While  the  ponds  freeze  over,  and  the  lakes  freeze  over,  and  the  rivers 
freeze  over,  let  none  of  us  have  frozen  nerves,  or  frozen  affections,  or 
a  frozen  soul.  Warmer  be  our  hopes,  warmer  our  activities,  until  we 
shall  exchange  the  fitful  climate  of  earth  for  the  eternal  June  of  heaven. 
The  trees  of  life  are  never  frost-bitten  ;  the  crystal  river  from  under 
the  throne  will  never  freeze;  and  the  sea  that  John  saw  was  not  a  cold 
expanse,  but  warm  as  well  as  glittering — "a  sea  of  glass,  mingled 
with  fire."  i 

AUTUMN    LEAVES. 

For  several  autumns  I  made  a  lecturing  expedition  to  the  Far 
West,  and  one  autumn,  about  this  time,  saw  that  which  I  shall  never 
forget.  I  have  seen  the  autumnal  sketches  of  Cropsey's  and  other 
skillful  pencils,  but  that  week  I  saw  a  pageant  two  thousand  miles  long. 
Let  artists  stand  back  when  God  stretches  his  canvas  !  A  grander 
spectacle  was  never  kindled  before  mortal  eyes.  Along  by  the  rivers, 
and  up  and  down  the  sides  of  the  great  hills,  and  by  the  banks  of  the 
lakes,  there  was  an  indescribable  mingling  of  gold,  and  orange,  and 
crimson,  and  saffron,  now  sobering  into  drab  and  maroon,  now  flaming 
up  into  solferino  and  scarlet.  Here  and  there  the  trees  looked  as  if 
just  their  tips  had  blossomed  into  fire.  In  the  morning  light  the  forests 
seemed  as  if  they  had  been  transfigured,  and  in  the  evening  hour  they 
looked  as  if  the  sunset  had  burst  and  dropped  upon  the  leaves.  In 
more  sequestered  spots,  where  the  frosts  had  been  hindered  in  their 
work,  we  saw  the  first  kindling  of  the  flames  of  color  in  a  lowly  sprig ; 


3 24  NA  TURKS  LESSONS. 

then  they  rushed  up  from  branch  to  branch,  until  the  glory  of  the  Lord 
submerged  the  forest.  Here  you  would  find  a  tree  just  making  up  its 
mind  to  change,  and  there  one  looked  as  if,  wounded  at  every  pore,  it 
stood  bathed  in  carnage.  Along  the  banks  of  Lake  Huron  there  were 
hills  over  which  there  seemed  pouring  cataracts  of  fire,  tossed  up  and 
down  and  every  whither  by  the  rocks.  Through  some  of  the  ravines 
we  saw  occasionally  a  foaming  stream,  as  though  it  were  rushing  to 
put  out  the  conflagration.  If  at  one  end  of  the  woods  a  commanding 
tree  would  set  up  its  crimson  banner,  the  whole  forest  prepared  to  fol- 
low. If  God's  urn  of  colors  were  not  infinite,  one  swamp  that  I  saw 
along  the  Maumee  would  have  exhausted  it  forever.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
sea  of  divine  glory  had  dashed  its  surf  to  the  tip-top  of  the  Alleghanies, 
and  then  had  come  dripping  down  to  lowest  leaf  and  deepest  cavern. 

The  changing  foliage  on  the  Rhine  is  not  to  be  compared  with 
that  of  the  Hudson,  nor  that  of  the  Alps  with  that  of  the  Alleghanies. 
The  fountain  of  American  color  is  deeper  than  the  transatlantic  foun- 
tains. The  frost  has  a  more  skillful  pencil  here  than  in  other  atmos- 
pheres. Many  nervous  people  at  this  season  get  depressed.  James 
Martineau  sighs  about  the  autumn,  and  says  :  "  It  cries  out  in  the  night 
wind  and  shrill  hail.  It  steals  the  summer  bloom  from  the  infant 
cheek.  It  makes  old  age  shiver  at  the  heart.  It  goes  to  the  church- 
yard and  chooses  many  a  grave.  It  flies  to  the  bell,  and  enjoins  it 
when  to  toll." 

All  this  I  pronounce  poetic  slander.  Autumn  does  not  slay  one- 
half  as  many  as  summer,  but  still  to  many  this  season  is  productive  of 
melancholy.  They  are  reminded  of  nothing  but  decay  and  death  and 
graveyards,  when  the  chief  lesson  ought  to  be  one  of  coronation. 

The  only  real  triumph  that  the  forest  has  is  in  the  autumn.  The 
sober  green  takes  on  carnivals  of  color,  and  the  fashions  of  the  hill 
become  more  gay.  Here  and  there,  during  the  Presidential  conflict, 
we  had  banners  stretched  across  the  street,  but  for  the  following 
month,  from  Mount  Washington  to  the  Sierra  Nevadas,  there  were 
banners  lifted — banners  of  the  King — banners  of  autumnal  joy,  ban- 
ners of  fire.  Instead  of  leading  us  down  into  the  dust  and  darkness, 

o 

they  ought  to  lead  us  on  and  up  toward  the  country  where  our  best 
possessions  lie. 


325 


OUR  DUTY  TO  OUR  CHILDREN. 


WHEN  children  spend  six  or  seven  hours  in  school,  and  then 
must  spend  two  or  three  hours  in  preparation  for  school  the 
next  day,  will  you  tell  me  how  much  time  rhey  will  have  for 
sunshine  and  fresh  air,  and  the  obtaining  of  that  exuberant  vitality 
which  is  necessary  for  the  duties  of  the  coming  life  ? 

No  one  can  feel  more  thankful  than  I  do  for  the  advancement  of 
common-school  education.  The  printing  of  books  appropriate  for 
schools,  the  multiplication  of  philosophical  apparatus,  the  establishment 
of  normal  schools,  which  provide  for  our  children  teachers  of  large  cali- 
bre, are  themes  on  which  every  philanthropist  ought  to  be  congratu- 
lated. But  this  herding  of  great  multitudes  of  children  in  ill-ventilated 
school-rooms,  and  poorly-equipped  halls  of  instruction,  is  making  many 
of  the  places  of  knowledge  in  this  country  huge  holocausts. 

Politics  in  many  of  the  cities  gets  into  educational  affairs,  and  while 
the  two  political  parties  are  scrabbling  for  the  honors,  Jephthah's  daugh- 
ter perishes.  This  is  so  much  the  case  that  there  are  many  schools  in 
the  country  to-day  which  are  preparing  tens  of  thousands  of  invalid 
men  and  women  for  the  future  ;  so  that,  in  many  places,  by  the  time 
the  child's  education  is  finished  the  child  is  finished !  In  many  places, 
in  many  cities  of  the  country,  there  are  for  everything  else  large  and 
cheerful  appropriations  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  appropriation  is  to  be  made 
for  the  educational  or  moral  interests  of  the  city,  we  are  struck  through 
with  an  economy  that  is  well-nigh  the  death  of  us. 

THE    CRAMMING    SYSTEM. 

In  connection  with  this,  I  mention  what  I  might  call  the  cramming 
system  of  the  common  schools  and  many  of  the  academies  :  children 

of  delicate  brain  compelled  to  tasks  that  might  appal  a  mature  intellect ; 

326 


(967?  DL'IY  TO  OUR  UllLUJtEAI.  J2? 

children  going  down  to  school  with  a  strap  of  books  half  as  high  as 
themselves  !  The  fact  is,  that  in  some  of  the  cities  parents  do  not  allow 
their  children  to  graduate,  for  the  simple  reason,  they  say,  "  We  cannot 
afford  to  allow  our  children's  health  to  be  destroyed  in  order  that  they 
may  gather  the  honors  of  an  institution."  Tens  of  thousands  of  chil- 
dren educated  into  imbecility  !  Connected  with  many  such  literary  es- 
tablishments there  ought  to  be  asylums  for  the  wrecked. 

It  is  push,  and  crowd,  and  cram,  and  stuff,  and  jam,  until  the  child's 

f.  intellect  is  bewildered,  and  the  memory  is  ruined,  and  the  health  is 

*  gone.     There  are  children  turned  out  from  the  schools  who  once  were 

full  of  romping  and  laughter,  and  had  cheeks  crimson  with  health,  who 

are  now  pale-faced,  irritated,  asthmatic,  old  before  their  time.     One  of 

the  saddest  sights  on  earth  is  an  old-mannish  boy,  or  an  old-womanish 

girl. 

Think  of  it !  Girls  ten  years  of  age  studying  algebra  !  Boys  twelve 
years  of  age  racking  their  brains  over  trigonometry  !  Children  unac- 
quainted with  their  mother-tongue  crying  over  their  Latin,  French,  and 
German  lessons  !  All  the  vivacity  of  their  nature  beaten  out  of  them 
by  the  heavy  beetle  of  a  Greek  lexicon  !  And  you  doctor  them  for  this, 
and  you  give  them  a  little  medicine  for  that,  and  you  wonder  what  is 
the  matter  of  them.  I  will  tell  you  what  is  the  matter  of  them.  They 
are  "finishing  their  education  "/ 

AN    EDUCATED    IDIOT. 

In  my  parish  in  Philadelphia  a  little  child  was  so  pushed  at  school 
that  she  was  thrown  into  a  fever,  and  in  her  dying  delirium,  all  night 
long,  she  was  trying  to  recite  the  multiplication-table.  In  my  boyhood 
I  remember  that  in  our  class  at  school  there  was  one  lad  who  knew 
more  than  all  of  us  put  together.  If  we  were  fast  in  our  arithmetic,  he 
extricated  us.  When  we  stood  up  for  the  spelling-class,  he  was  almost 
always  at  the  head  of  the  class.  Visitors  came  to  his  father's  house, 
and  he  was  always  brought  in  as  a  prodigy.  At  eighteen  years  of  age 
he  was  an  idiot  /  He  lived  ten  years  an  idiot,  and  died  an  idiot,  not 
knowing  his  right  hand  from  his  left,  or  day  from  night.  The  parents 
and  the  teachers  made  him  an  idiot. 

You  may  flatter  your  pride  by  forcing  your  child  to  know  more 
than  any  other  children,  but  you  are  making  a  sacrifice  of  that  child,  if 
by  the  additions  to  its  intelligence  you  are  making  a  subtraction  from 


3 28  OUR  DUTY  TO  OUR  CHILDREN. 

its  future.  The  child  will  go  away  from  such  maltreatment  with  no  ex< 
uberance  to  fight  the  battle  of  life.  Such  children  may  get  along  very 
well  while  you  take  care  of  them,  but  when  you  are  old  or  dead,  alas  ! 
for  them,  if,  through  the  long  system  of  education  which  you  adopted, 
they  have  no  swarthiness  or  force  of  character  to  take  care  of  them 
selves.  •  Be  careful  how  you  make  the  child's  head  ache  or  its  heart 
flutter.  I  hear  a  great  deal  about  black  men's  rights,  and  Chinamen's 
rights,  and  Indians'  rights,  and  woman's  rights.  Would  God  that  some- 
body would  rise  to  plead  for  children  s  rights  ! 

The  Carthaginians  used  to  sacrifice  their  children  by  putting  them 
into  the  arms  of  an  idol  which  thrust  forth  its  hand.  The  child  was  put 
into  the  arms  of  the  idol,  and  no  sooner  touched  the  arms  than  it 
dropped  into  the  fire.  But  it  was  the  art  of  the  mothers  to  keep  the 
children  smiling  and  laughing  until  the  moment  they  died.  There  may 
be  a  fascination  and  a  hilarity  about  the  styles  of  education  of  which  I  am 
speaking  ;  but  it  also  is  only  laughter  at  the  moment  of  sacrifice. 
Would  God  there  were  only  one  Jephthah's  daughter ! 

JEPHTHAH'S  DAUGHTER. 

Shall  I  tell  the  story  of  Jephthah's  daughter  ?  Before  going  out  to 
the  war  Jephthah  made  a  very  solemn  vow,  that,  if  the  Lord  would 
give  him  the  victory,  then,  on  his  return  home,  whatsoever  first  came 
out  of  his  doorway  he  would  offer  in  sacrifice  as  a  burnt-offering.  The 
battle  opened.  It  was  no  skirmishing  on  the  edges  of  danger,  no  un 
limbering  of  batteries  two  miles  away,  but  the  hurling  of  men  on  the 
point  of  swords  and  spears,  until  the  ground  could  no  more  drink  the 
blood,  and  the  horses  reared  to  leap  over  the  pile  of  bodies  of  the  slain. 
In  those  old  times,  opposing  forces  would  fight  until  their  swords  were 
broken,  and  then  each  one  would  throttle  his  man  until  they  both  fell, 
teeth  to  teeth,  grip  to  grip,  death-stare  to  death-stare,  until  the  plain 
was  one  tumbled  mass  of  corpses  from  which  the  last  trace  of  manhood 
had  been  dashed  out. 

Jephthah  wins  the  day.  Twenty  cities  lie  captured  at  his  feet. 
Sound  the  victory  all  through  the  mountains  of  Gilead.  Let  the  trum- 
peters call  up  the  survivors.  Homeward  to  your  wives  and  children. 
Homeward  with  your  glittering  treasures.  Homeward  to  have  the  ap- 
plause of  an  admiring  nation.  Build  triumphal  arches.  Swing  out 
flags  all  over  Mizpeh.  Open  all  your  doors  to  receive  the  captured 


OUR  DUTY  TO  OUR  CHILDREN.  329 

treasures.  Through  every  hall  spread  the  banquet.  Pile  up  the 
viands.  Fill  high  the  tankards.  The  nation  is  redeemed,  the  invaders 
are  routed,  and  the  national  honor  is  vindicated. 

Huzza  for  Jephthah,  the  conqueror !  Jephthah,  seated  on  a 
prancing  steed,  advances  amid  the  acclaiming  multitudes,  but  his  eye  is 
not  on  the  excited  populace.  Remembering  that  he  had  made  a  solemn 
vow  that,  returning  from  victorious  battle,  whatsoever  first  came 
out  of  the  doorway  of  his  home  should  be  sacrificed  as  a  burnt-offering, 
he  has  his  anxious  look  upon  the  door.  I  wonder  what  spotless 
lamb,  what  brace  of  doves,  will  be  thrown  upon  the  fires  of  the  burnt- 
offering  ! 

The  paleness  of  death  blanches  his  cheek.  Despair  seizes  his 
heart.  His  daughter — his  only  child — rushes  out  of  the  doorway  to  throw 
herself  in  her  father's  arms  and  shower  upon  him  more  kisses  than 
there  are  wounds  on  his  breast  or  dents  on  his  shield.  All  the  tri- 
umphal splendor  vanishes.  Holding  back  this  child  from  his  heaving 
breast,  and  pushing  the  locks  back  from  the  fair  brow,  and  looking  into 
the  eyes  of  inextinguishable  affection,  with  choked  utterance  he  says : 
"  Would  God  I  lay  stark  on  the  bloody  plain  !  My  daughter,  my  only 
child,  joy  of  my  home,  life  of  my  life,  thou  art  the  sacrifice  !" 

The  whole  matter  was  explained  to  her.  This  was  no  whining, 
hollow-hearted  girl  into  whose  eyes  the  father  looked.  All  the  glory 
of  sword  and  shield  vanished  in  the  presence  of  the  valor  of  that 
girl.  There  may  have  been  a  tremor  of  the  lip,  as  a  rose-leaf  trembles 
in  the  sough  of  the  south  wind  ;  there  may  have  been  the  starting  of  a 
tear  like  a  rain-drop  shook  from  the  anther  of  a  water-lily  ;  but  with  a 
self-sacrifice  that  man  may  not  reach,  and  only  woman's  heart  can  com- 
pass, she  surrenders  herself  to  fire  and  to  death  !  She  cries  out,  "My 
father,  if  thou  hast  opened  thy  mouth  unto  the  Lord,  do  unto  me  what- 
soever hath  proceeded  from  thy  mouth." 

She  bows  to  the  knife,  and  the  blood,  which  so  often  at  the  father's 
voice  had  rushed  to  the  crimson  cheek,  smokes  in  the  fires  of  the  burnt- 
offering.  No  one  can  tell  us  her  name.  There  is  no  need  that  we 
know  her  name.  The  garlands  that  Mizpeh  twisted  for  Jephthah  the 
warrior  have  gone  into  the  dust ;  but  all  ages  are  twisting  this  girl's 
chaplet.  It  is  well  that  her  name  came  not  to  us,  for  no  one  can  wear 
it.  They  may  take  the  name  of  Deborah,  or  Abigail,  or  Miriam,  but 
no  one  in  all  the  ages  shall  have  the  title  of  this  daughter  of  sacrifice. 


33°  OUR  DUTY  TO  OUR  CHILDREN. 

Of  course  this  offering  was  not  pleasing  to  the  Lord ;  but  before 
you  hurl  your  denunciations  at  Jephthah's  cruelty,  remember  that  in 
olden  times,  when  vows  were  made,  men  thought  they  must  execute 
them,  perform  them,  whether  they  were  wicked  or  good.  There  were 
two  wrong  things  about  Jephthah's  vow  :  First,  he  ought  never  to  have 
made  it  Next,  having  made  it,  it  were  better  broken  than  kept.  But 
do  not  take  on  pretentious  airs  and  say,  "  I  could  not  have  done  as 
Jephthah  did."  If  to-day  you  were  standing  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ganges,  and  you  had  been  born  in  India,  you  might  have  been  throw- 
ing your  children  to  the  crocodiles. 

And  in  this  very  free  and  enlightened  land  of  America  many  of  you 
are  pursuing  the  course  of  the  superstitious  chieftain  of  old.  The  sac- 
rifice of  Jephthah's  daughter  was  a  type  of  the  physical,  mental,  and 
spiritual  sacrifice  of  ten  thousand  children  in  this  day.  There  are  par- 
ents all  unwittingly  bringing  to  bear  upon  their  children  a  class  of  in- 
fluences which  will  as  certainly  ruin  them  as  knife  and  torch  destroyed 
Jephthah's  daughter.  And  yet  the  whole  nation,  without  emotion  and 
without  shame,  looks  upon  the  stupendous  sacrifice. 

WRONG   SYSTEMS   OF   DISCIPLINE. 

Too  great  rigor,  or  too  great  leniency !  There  are  children  in 
families  who  rule  the  household.  They  come  to  the  authority.  The  high 
chair  in  which  the  infant  sits  is  the  throne,  and  the  rattle  is  the  scepter, 
and  the  other  children  make  up  the  parliament  where  father  and  mother 
have  no  vote.  Such  children  come  up  to  be  miscreants  ! 

There  is  no  chance  in  this  world  for  a  child  that  has  never  learned 
to  mind.  Such  people  become  the  botheration  of  the  Church  of  God 
and  the  pest  of  the  world.  Children  that  do  not  learn  to  obey  human 
authority  are  unwilling  to  learn  to  obey  divine  authority.  Children  will 
not  respect  parents  whose  authority  they  do  not  respect.  Who  are 
these  young  men  that  swagger  through  the  street,  with  their  thumbs  in 
their  vests,  talking  about  their  father  as  "the  old  man,"  "the  govern- 
or," "the  squire,"  "the  old  chap,"  or  their  mother  as  "the  old  woman"? 
They  are  those  who  in  youth,  in  childhood,  never  learned  to  respect 
authority. 

Eli,  having  heard  that  his  sons  had  died  in  their  wickedness,  fell 
over  backward,  and  broke  his  neck  and  died.  Well  he  might ,  What 
is  life  to  a  father  whose  sons  are  debauched  ?  The  dust  of  the  valley 


331 


THANKSGIVING 


OUR  DUTY  TO  OUR  CHJLDREN.  333 

is  pleasant  to  his  taste,  and  the  driving  rains  that  drip  through  the  roof 
of  the  sepulcher  are  sweeter  than  the  wines  of  Helbon. 

There  must  be  harmony  between  the  father's  government  and  the 
mother's  government.  The  father  will  be  tempted  to  too  great  rigor. 
The  mother  will  be  tempted  to  too  great  leniency.  Her  tenderness  will 
overcome  her.  Her  voice  is  a  little  softer,  her  hand  seems  better  fitted 
to  pull  out  a  thorn  and  soothe  a  pang.  Children  wanting  anything 
from  the  mother,  cry  for  it.  They  hope  to  dissolve  her  will  with  tears. 
But  the  mother  must  not  interfere,  must  not  coax  off,  must  not  beg  for 
the  child  when  the  hour  comes  for  the  assertion  of  parental  supremacy 
and  the  subjugation  of  a  child's  temper. 

There  comes  in  the  history  of  every  child  an  hour  when  it  is  tested 
whether  the  parents  shall  rule  or  the  child  shall  rule.  That  is  the  cru- 
cial hour.  If  the  child  triumphs  in  that  hour,  then  he  will  some  day 
make  you  crouch,  It  is  a  horrible  scene ;  I  have  witnessed  it  ;  a  mother 
come  to  old  age,  shivering  with  terror  in  the  presence  of  a  son  who 
cursed  her  gray  hairs,  and  mocked  her  wrinkled  face,  and  begrudged 
her  the  crust  she  munched  with  her  toothless  gums  ! 

"  How  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  it  is, 
To  have  a  thankless  child." 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  too  great  rigor  must  be  avoided.  It  is  a 
sad  thing  when  domestic  government  becomes  cold  military  despotism. 
Trappers  on  the  prairie  fight  fire  with  fire,  but  you  cannot  successfully 
fight  your  child's  bad  temper  with  your  own  bad  temper.  We  must  not 
be  too  minute  in  our  inspection.  We  cannot  expect  our  children  to  be 
perfect.  We  must  not  see  everything.  Since  we  have  two  or  three 
faults  of  our  own,  we  ought  not  to  be  too  rough  when  we  discover  that 
our  children  have  as  many.  If  tradition  be  true,  when  we  were  children 
we  were  not  all  little  Samuels,  and  our  parents  were  not  fearful  lest 
they  could  not  raise  us  because  of  our  premature  goodness. 

You  cannot  scold  or  pound  your  children  into  nobility  of  character. 
The  bloom  of  a  child's  heart  can  never  be  seen  under  a  cold  drizzle. 
Above  all,  avoid  fretting  and  scolding  in  the  household.  Better  than 
ten  years  of  fretting  at  your  children  is  one  good,  round,  old-fashioned 
application  of  the  slipper  !  That  minister  of  the  Gospel  who  is  said  to 
have  whipped  his  child  to  death  because  he  would  not  say  his  prayers, 
will  never  come  to  canonization.  The  arithmetics  cannot  calculate  how 
many  thousands  of  children  have  been  ruined  forever  either  through 


334  OUR  DUTY  TO   OUR  CHILDREN. 

too  great  rigor  or  too  great  leniency.  The  heavens  and  the  earth  are 
filled  with  the  groans  of  the  sacrificed.  In  this  important  matter,  seek 
divine  direction,  O  father,  O  mother  ! 

Some  one  asked  the  mother  of  Lord  Chief  Justice  Mansfield  if  she 
was  not  proud  to  have  three  such  eminent  sons,  and  all  of  them  so 
good.  "  No,"  she  said,  "it  is  nothing  to  be  proud  of,  but  something  for 
which  to  be  very  grateful." 

SACRIFICED    TO    WORLDLINESS. 

Some  one  asked  a  mother,  whose  children  had  turned  out  very 
well,  what  was  the  secret  by  which  she  prepared  them  for  usefulness 
and  for  the  Christian  life,  and  she  said,  "This  was  the  secret :  When, 
in  the  morning,  I  washed  my  children,  I  prayed  that  they  might  be 
washed  in  the  fountain  of  a  Saviour's  mercy.  When  I  put  on  their  gar- 
ments, I  prayed  that  they  might  be  arrayed  in  the  robe  of  a  Saviour': 
righteousness.  When  I  gave  them  food,  I  prayed  that  they  might  be 
fed  with  manna  from  heaven.  When  I  started  them  on  the  road  to 
school,  I  prayed  that  their  path  might  be  as  the  shining  light,  brighter 
and  brighter  to  the  perfect  day.  When  I  put  them  to  sleep,  I  prayed 
that  they  might  be  enfolded  in  the  Saviour's  arms."  "  Oh,"  you  say, 
"  that  was  very  old-fashioned."  It  was  quite  old-fashioned.  But  do  you 
suppose  that  a  child  under  such  nurture  as  that  ever  turned  out  bad  ? 

In  our  day  most  boys  start  out  with  no  idea  higher  than  the  all-en- 
compassing dollar.  They  start  in  an  age  which  boasts  that  it  can 
scratch  the  Lord's  Prayer  on  a  ten-cent  piece,  and  the  Ten  Command- 
ments on  a  ten-cent  piece.  Children  are  taught  to  reduce  morals  and 
religion,  time  and  eternity,  to  vulgar  fractions  !  It  seems  to  be  their 
chief  attainment  that  ten  cents  make  a  dime,  and  ten  dimes  make  a  dol- 
lar. How  to  get  money  is  only  equaled  by  the  other  art,  how  to 
keep  it. 

Tell  me,  ye  who  know,  what  chance  there  is  for  those  who  start 
out  in  life  with  such  perverted  sentiments.  The  money  market  re- 
sounds again  and  again  with  the  downfall  of  such  people.  If  I  had  a 
drop  of  blood  on  the  tip  of  a  pen,  I  would  tell  you  by  what  awful  trag- 
edy many  of  the  youth  of  this  country  are  ruined. 

Further  on,  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  the  daughters  of 
America  are  sacrificed  to  worldliness.  They  are  taught  to  be  in  sym- 
pathy with  all  the  artificialities  of  society.  They  are  inducted  into  all 


OUR  DUTY  TO  OUR  CHILDREN.  335 

the  hollowness  of  what  is  called  fashionable  life.  They  are  taught  to 
believe  that  history  is  dry,  but  that  fifty-cent  stories  of  adventurous  love 
are  delicious.  With  capacity  that  might  have  rivaled  a  Florence  Night- 
ingale in  heavenly  ministries,  or  made  the  father's  house  glad  with 
filial  and  sisterly  demeanor,  their  life  is  a  waste,  their  beauty  a  curse, 
their  eternity  a  demolition. 

In  the  siege  of  Charleston,  during  the  late  war,  a  lieutenant  of 
the  army  stood  on  the  floor  beside  the  daughter  of  the  ex-Governor  of 
the  State  of  South  Carolina.  They  were  taking  the  vows  of  marriage. 
A  bombshell  struck  the  roof,  dropped  into  the  group,  and  nine  were 
wounded  and  slain ;  among  those  wounded  to  death  was  the  bride. 
While  the  bridegroom  knelt  on  the  carpet,  trying  to  stanch  the 
wounds,  the  bride  demanded  that  the  ceremony  should  be  completed, 
that  she  might  take  the  vows  before  her  departure ;  and  when  the 
minister  said,  "Wilt  thou  be  faithful  unto  death?"  with  her  dying 
lips  she  said,  "I  will,"  and  in  two  hours  she  had  departed.  That  \v:is 
the  slaughter  and  the  sacrifice  of  the  body  ;  but  at  thousands  of  marriage- 
altars  there  are  daughters  slain  for  time  and  slain  for  eternity.  It  is 
not  a  marriage — it  is  a  massacre  ! 

Affianced  to  some  one  who  is  only  waiting  until  his  father  dies,  so 
that  he  can  get  the  property  ;  then  a  little  while  they  swing  around  in 
the  brilliant  circles  of  fashionable  society ;  then  the  property  is  gone, 
and  having  no  power  to  earn  a  livelihood,  the  twain  sink  into  some 
corner  of  society,  the  husband  an  idler  and  a  sot,  the  wife  a  drudge,  a 
slave,  and  a  sacrifice.  You  may  spare  your  denunciations  from  Jeph- 
thah's  head,  and  expend  them  upon  this  wholesale  modern  sacrifice. 

I  lift  up  my  voice 'against  the  sacrifice  of  children.  I  look  out  ol 
my  window  on  a  Sabbath,  and  I  see  a  group  of  children,  unwashed, 
uncombed,  unchristianized.  Who  cares  for  them  ?  Who  prays  for 
them  ?  Who  utters  to  them  one  kind  word  ? 

When  the  city  missionary,  passing  along  the  Park  in  New  York, 
saw  a  ragged  lad  and  heard  him  swearing,  he  said  to  him  :  "  My  son, 
stop  swearing  !  You  ought  to  go  to  the  house  of  God  to-day.  You 
ought  to  be  good  ;  you  ought  to  be  a  Christian."  The  lad  looked  in 
his  face  and  said :  "Ah,  it  is  easy  for  you  to  talk,  well  clothed  as  you 
are,  and  well  fed  ;  but  we  chaps  hain't  got  no  chance."  Who  goes 
forth  to  snatch  them  up  from  crime  and  death  and  woe  ?  Who  to-day 
will  go  forth  and  bring  them  into  schools  and  churches  ? 


336  OUR  DUTY  TO  OUR  CHILDREN. 

During  the  early  French  Revolution,  there  was  at  Bourges  a  com- 
pany of  boys  who  used  to  train  every  day  as  young  soldiers.  They 
had  on  their  flag  this  inscription  :  "Tremble,  tyrants,  tremble  ;  we  are 
growing  up."  Mightily  suggestive!  This  generation  is  passing  off, 
and  a  mightier  generation  is  coming  on.  Will  they  be  the  foes  of 
tyranny,  the  foes  of  sin,  and  the  foes  of  death,  or  will  they  be  the  foes 
of  God  ?  They  are  coming  up  ! 

I  congratulate  all  parents  who  are  doing  their  best  to  keep  their 
children  away  from  the  altar  of  sacrifice.  Your  prayers  are  going  to 
be  answered.  Your  children  may  wander  away  from  God,  but  they 
will  come  back  again.  A  voice  comes  from  the  throne  to-day,  encour- 
aging you:  "I  will  be  a  God  to  thee,  and  to  thy  seed  after  thee." 
And  though  when  you  lay  down  your  head  in  death  there  may  be 
some  wanderer  of  the  family  far  away  from  God,  and  you  may  be 
twenty  years  in  heaven  before  salvation  shall  come  to  his  heart,  he 
will  be  brought  into  the  kingdom,  and  before  the  throne  of  God  you 
will  rejoice  that  you  were  faithful. 


^v 


RING  them  into  the  sunshine, 
)     Out  of  the  gloomy  night ; 
Out  of  the  perilous  places — 
Bring  them  into  the  light. 

Bring  for  the  love  of  the  Mastef 
(He  who  himself  did  give), 

Teach  'diem  how  His  compassion 
Encompasseth  all  that  live. 


W^ifK 


ihow  them  the  pathway  of  duty, 

That  upward  their  feet  may  tread; 
fhat  "Of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of 

Heaven," 
May  still,  as  of  old,  be  said. 

HARRIET  B.  BIRP 


•~i 


THE  FIRST  WRONG  ACT 


338 


DESCENDANTS  OF  THE  PILGRIMS. 


[At  *  New  England  dinner,  to  which  many  noted  men  had  been  invited  to  celebrate  the  landing  of 
our  Pilgrim  fathers,  Doctor  Talmage  made  the  following  felicitous  remarks :] 


WHAT  an  honored  month  is  December,  the  month  of  the  two 
greatest  landings  the  world  ever  saw  or  ever  will  see — the  land- 
ing of  Christ  in  the  Old  World  and  the  landing  of  political 
redemption  in  the  New  World  !     Until  time  shall  be  no  more,  let  the 
two  landings  be  celebrated  by  banquet  and  song.     What  a  transforma- 
tion of  scene  it  would  be  if  by  a  rap  on  the  table  all  these  beaming 
guests  of  to-night  should  vanish,  and  the  mighty  New  Englanders  of 
the  past  should  take  their  place.     I  risk  it  and  give  two  raps,  and  no 
)ner  have  we  vanished  than  the  departed  mighty  ones  of  New  Eng» 
«d  come  in  and  take  their  places  at  this  New  England  dinner.     The 
nrst  who  enter  are  Miles  Standish,  and  the  Robinsons,  the  Bradford:, 
the    Brewsters,   and   their   fellow-passengers — a   little    decrepit  from 
hardship  and  exposure,  leaning  on   staves   made  out  of  pieces  of  the 
"  Mayflower"   that  brought  them  across  the  sea — and  they  take  their 
places  at  these  tables. 

Following  these  come  John  Otis,  John  Adams,  and  Increase 
Mather — the  giant  of  the  New  England  pulpits — and  the  men  oi 
Faneuil  Hall — who  started  echoes  that  will  reverberate  till  the  last 
chain  is  snapped  and  the  last  tyranny  fallen — and  Daniel  Webster,  and 
William  Lloyd  Garrison — whom  all  earth  and  hell  could  not  intimidate. 
They  take  their  places  at  the  tables,  and  after  Increase  Mather  has 
offered  prayer,  one  of  them  rises  and  proposes  the  toast  of  the  even- 
ing, "Our  descendants:  may  they  prove  true  to  the  principles  for 
which  we  sailed  the  stormy  waters  of  the  Atlantic  or  the  rougher  seas 
of  political  agitation.  Our  blessings  on  their  cradles  and  their  graves, 

339 


340 


DESCENDANTS  OF  THE  PILGRIMS. 


upon  their  s'choolhouses  and  their  churches,  upon  their  agriculture  and 
their  literature,  upon  their  politics  and  their  religion,  for  this  century  and 
for  all  centuries."  At  these  sentiments  all  the  old  New  Englanders  rise 
and  click  glasses  with  a  huzza  that  shall  ring  round  the  world  for  a 
thousand  years.  I  rap  the  table  twice  and  they  are  gone,  and  we  are 


PLYMOUTH  ROCK. 

back  again  to  answer  the  lips   of  these  old  wrinkled  faces,  pledging 
ourselves  anew  to  our  country  and  our  God. 

THE  VALUE  OF  ANCESTRY. 

Men  of  New  England,  I  am  not  surprised  at  what  you  are  and  at 
what  you  have  achieved,  descended  from  such  an  ancestry.  Of  course, 
every  one  comes  to  be  judged  by  what  he  himself  is  worth.  I  always 


DESCENDANTS  OF  THE  PILGRIMS.  34 1 

feel  sorry  for  a  man  that  has  so  little  character  himself  that  he  has  to 
go  back  and  marshal  a  lot  of  ancestral  ghosts  to  make  up  the  deficiency. 
It  is  no  great  credit  to  a  fool  that  he  has  a  wise  grandfather.  But  it  is 
nevertheless  true  that  the  way  the  cradle  rocks,  your  destiny  will  rock. 
The  Pilgrim  fathers  were  a  chosen  people  to  do  a  peculiar  work.  This 
father  blood,  as  I  analyze  it,  is  a  mixture  of  courage,  old-fashioned 
honesty,  ardent  domesticity,  respect  for  the  Holy  Sabbath,  freedom  of 
religious  thought,  and  faith  in  the  eternal  God.  These  are  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  New  Englanders  whom  I  have  happened  to  meet,  and 
if  anybody  has  had  a  different  experience,  he  has  happened  to  fall 
among  an  exceptionally  bad  lot.  Notwithstanding  their  severe 
winters,  they  lived  long.  Walk  through  your  ceriTeteries  and  see 
how  many  died  septuagenarians,  octogenarians  and  nonagenarians, 
so  that  the  inscription  that  the  Irishman  saw  would  not  be  inappro- 
priate. Passing  up  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  railroad  an  Irishman  saw 
a  milestone  with  the  inscription,  "  108  miles  to  Baltimore."  And  he 
said  to  his  comrade,  "Pat,  tread  easy  around  this  place,  for  there  is  a 
very  old  man  buried  here  ;  his  name  was  Miles,  and  he  was  from 
Baltimore  !  " 

AN  UNFOUNDED  CHARGE. 

New  Englanders,  I  know,  have  been  charged  with  "  close-fisted- 
ness,"  but  I  do  not  think  that  it  is  anymore  true  of  them  than  of  people 
all  over  the  world.  It  was  up  in  New  York  State  that  a  man  asked 
his  neighbor  to  take  a  drink.  The  neighbor  replied :  "  No,  I  never 
drink,  but  I  will  take  a  cigar  and  three  cents."  It  was  over  there  in 
Tennessee  that  a  child  had  such  wrong  notions  of  money,  that,  when 
on  a  Sunday-school  anniversary  day  each  boy  was  to  present  his  con- 
tribution and  quote  a  passage  of  Scripture,  a  boy  handed  in  his 
contribution  and  quoted :  "A  fool  and  his  money  are  soon  parted." 
The  most  'A  the  stories  of  the  New  England  "  close-fistedness  "  are 
told  by  those  who  tried  a  sharp  game  on  a  Yankee  and  were  worsted, 
and  the  retort  is  natural.  I  think  the  most  cases  where  men  have  been 
flung  by  Yankees  have  been  where  the  Yankee  would  not  be  imposed 
upon  any  longer.  Economy,  of  course,  prudence  and  forecast,  of 
course,  but  no  "close-fistedness."  When  I  have  been  raising  money 
for  some  charitable  object,  the  critic  of  the  New  Eno-lander  has 


342  DESCENDANTS  OF  THE  PILGRIMS. 

given    five    dol'ars,    the    New    Englander    has   given    five    hundred 
dollars. 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  PILGRIMS. 

Freedom  of  religious  thought  I  rightly  announced  as  among  the 
characteristics  of  the  Pilgrim  fathers.  Flying  hither  for  the  purpose  of 
worshiping  God  in  their  own  way,  they  opened  the  door  for  such 
liberty  in  this  respect  as  is  enjoyed  in  no  other  country.  Gentlemen, 
as  descendants  of  the  men  who  embarked  off  Delft  Haven  for  this 
promised  land  of  America,  and  stepped  on  shore  in  the  face  of  a 
December  hurricane — all  of  these  men  foreigners  from  a  foreign  land 
— I  ask  you  not  to  echo  the  stupid  and  asinine  cry  of  "America  for 
Americans."  O£  course  we  want  none  of  the  thieves  and  scoundrels 
and  anarchists  of  other  lands,  for  we  have  enough  of  our  own.  But  I  say, 
America  for  all  men  who  will  come  and  be  genuine  Americans^  swearing 
loyalty  to  our  Government,  and  working  for  the  public  good !  Drive  out 
from  our  American  merchandise  and  American  law  and  American 
theology  and  American  art  the  foreigners,  and  you  would  set  this 
country  back  a  half  century.  And  among  the  children  of  these 
Englishmen  coming  to  America  there  will  yet  be  a  William  E.  Glad- 
stone, and  among  the  Scotch  there  will  be  John  Knoxes,  and  among 
the  Irishmen,  Daniel  O'Connells,  and  among  the  Italians,  Garibaldis. 
But  I  would  stand  at  the  gates  of  Castle  Garden,  and  meet  all  those 
who  came  and  present  them  with  copies  of  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States,  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  the  Ten  Command- 
ments, and  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  then  tell  them  to  go 
wherever  they  will,  and  do  the  best  they  can  for  their  families. 

As  the  governments  at  the  South  are  gradually  melting  into  our 
own,  soon  at  the  North  all  troubles  between  Canada  and  the  United 
States  will  be  amicably  settled,  and  the  United  States  will  offer  heart 
and  hand  in  marriage  to  beautiful  Canada.  And  Canada  will  blush, 
and  thinking  of  the  allegiance  across  the  way,  will  say,  "Ask  mother  !  " 

And  now,  men  of  Brooklyn,  whether  descendants  of  the  Puritans, 
or  the  Hollanders,  or  the  Huguenots,  we  are  assembled  at  this  annual 
table  for  commemoration  and  jubilee,  and  surely  gastronomies  were  never 
put  to  grander  use.  At  this  table  we  have  both  literature  and  victuals, 
and  we  shall  go  away  from  this  room  thinking  better  of  our  ancestors, 
and  better  of  each  other,  and  with  a  firmer  resolve  to  do  our  very  best 
for  our  beloved  country. 


JOSHUA'S  BATTLE-FIELDS. 


WE  are  encamped  to-night  in  Palestine  by  the  waters  of  Merom. 
After  a  long  march  we  have  found  our  tents  pitched,  our 
fires  kindled,  and  though  far  away  from  civilization,  have  a 
variety  of  food  that  would  not  compromise  a  first-class  American  hotel, 
for  the  most  of  our  caravan  starts  an  hour  and  a  half  earlier  in  the 
morning.     We  detain  only  two  mules,   carrying  so  much  of  our  bag- 
gage as   we   might  accidentally   need,   and  a  tent  for  the   noon-day 
luncheon.     The  malarias  around  this  Lake  Merom  are  so  poisonous 
that  at  any  other  season  of  the  year  encampment  here  is  perilous,  but 
on  this  winter  night  the  air  is  tonic  and  healthful.    In  this  neighborhood 

o  o 

Joshua  fought  his  last  great  battle.  The  nations  had  banded  them- 
selves together  to  crush  him,  but  along  the  banks  of  these  waters 
Joshua  left  their  carcasses.  This  great  leader  crossed  and  recrossed 
Palestine,  and  next  to  Jesus  is  the  most  stirring  and  mighty  character 
whose  foot  ever  touched  the  Holy  Land. 

Joshua  was  a  magnificent  fighter,  but  he  always  fought  on  the  right 
side,  and  he  never  fought  unless  God  told  him  to  fight.  He  got  his 
military  equipment  from  God,  who  gave  him  the  promise  at  the  start, 
"  There  shall  not  any  man  be  able  to  stand  before  thee  all  the  days  of 
thy  life."  God  fulfilled  this  promise,  although  Joshua's  first  battle  was 
with  the  spring  freshet,  and  the  next  with  a  stone  wall,  and  the  next 
leading  on  a  regiment  of  whipped  cowards,  and  the  next  battle  against 
darkness,  wheeling  the  sun  and  the  moon  into  his  battalion,  and  the 
last. against  the  king  of  terrors,  Death — five  great  victories. 

For  the  most  part,  when  the  general  of  an  army  starts  out  in  a 
conflict,  he  would  like  to  have  a  small  battle  in  order  that  he  may  get 
his  courage  up  and  rally  his  troops  and  get  them  drilled  for  greater 
conflicts  ;  but  this  first  undertaking  of  Joshua  was  greater  than  the 

343 


344  JOSHUA'S  BATTLE-FIELDS. 

leveling  oi  Fort  Pulaski,  or  the  thundering  down  of  Gibraltar,  or  the 
overthrow  of  the  Bastile.  It  was  the  crossing  of  the  Jordan  at  the 
time  of  the  spring  freshet.  The  snows  of  Mount  Lebanon  had  just 
been  melting,  and  they  poured  down  into  the  valley,  and  the  whole 
valley  was  a  raging  torrent.  So  the  Canaanites  stand  on  one  bank, 
and  they  look  across  and  see  Joshua  and  the  Israelites,  and  they  laugh 
and  say,  "Aha  !  aha  !  they  cannot  disturb  us  in  time — until  the  freshets 
fall  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  reach  us."  But  after  a  while  they  look 
across  the  water  and  see  a  movement  in  the  army  of  Joshua.  They 
say:  "What's  the  matter  now?  Why,  there  must  be  a  panic  among 
these  troops,  and  they  are  going  to  fly,  or  perhaps  they  are  going  to 
try  to  march  across  the  river  Jordan.  Joshua  is  a  lunatic."  But  Joshua, 
the  chieftain,  looks  at  his  army  and  cries,  "  Forward,  march  !"  and  they 
start  for  the  bank  of  the  Jordan. 

ARK    OF   THE    COVENANT. 

One  mile  ahead  go  two  priests,  carrying  a  glittering  box  four  feet 
long  and  two  feet  wide.  It  is  the  ark  of  the  covenant.  And  they  come 
down,  and  no  sooner  do  they  touch  the  rim  of  the  water  with  their  feet 
than  by  an  almighty  fiat  Jordan  parts.  The  army  of  Joshua  marches 
right  on  without  getting  their  feet  wet,  over  the  bottom  of  the  river,  a 
path  of  chalk  and  broken  shells  and  pebbles,  until  they  get  to  the  other 
bank.  Then  they  lay  hold  of  the  oleanders  and  tamarisks  and  willows 
and  pull  themselves  up  a  bank  thirty  or  forty  feet  high,  and  having 
gained  the  other  bank  they  clap  their  shields  and  their  cymbals,  and 
sing  the  praises  of  the  God  of  Joshua.  But  no  sooner  have  they 
reached  the  bank  than  the  waters  begin  to  dash  and  roar,  and  with  a 
terrific  rush  they  break  loose  from  their  strange  anchorage. 

As  the  hand  of  the  Lord  God  is  taken  away  from  the  uplifted 
waters — uplifted  perhaps  half  a  mile — those  waters  rush  down,  and 
some  of  the  unbelieving  Israelites  say  :  "  Alas,  alas,  what  a  misfortune  ! 
Why  could  not  those  waters  have  staid  parted  ?  Because,  perhaps,  we 
may  want  to  go  back.  O  Lord,  we  are  engaged  in  a  risky  business. 
How  if  we  want  to  go  back  ?  Would  it  not  have  been  a  more  com- 
plete miracle  if  the  Lord  had  parted  the  waters  to  let  us  come  through, 
and  kept  them  parted  to  let  us  go  back  if  we  are  defeated  ?"  But  God 
makes  no  provision  for  a  Christian's  retreat.  He  clears  the  path  all 
the  way  to  Canaan.  To  go  back  is  to  die.  The  same  gatekeepers 


JOSHUA '  S  BA  TTLE-FIELDS.  345 

that  swung  back  the  amethystine  and  crystalline  gate  of  the  Jordan  to 
let  Israel  pass  through,  now  swing  shut  this  amethystine  and  crystal- 
line gate. 

THE  RAM'S  HORN. 

But  this  is  no  place  for  the  host  to  stop.  Joshua  gives  the  com- 
mand, "  Forward,  march !"  In  the  distance  there  is  a  long  grove  of 
f  trees,  and  at  the  end  of  the  grove  is  a  city.  It  is  a  city  of  arbors,  a 
city  with  walls  seeming  to  reach  to  the  heaven,  to  buttress  the  very  sky. 
It  is  the  great  metropolis  that  commands  the  mountain  pass.  It  is 
Jericho.  That  city  was  afterward  captured  by  Pompey,  and  it  was  after- 
ward captured  by  Herod  the  Great,  and  it  was  afterward  captured  by 
the  Mohammedans  ;  but  this  campaign  the  Lord  plans.  There  shall  be 
no  swords,  no  shields,  no  battering  rams.  There  shall  be  only  one 
weapon  of  war,  and  that  a  ram's  horn. 

The  horn  of  the  slain  rain  was  sometimes  taken  and  holes  were 
punctured  in  it,  and  then  the  musician  would  put  the  instrument  to  his 
lips,  and  he  would  run  his  fingers  over  this  rude  musical  instrument 
and  make  a  great  deal  of  sweet  harmony  for  the  people.  That  was 
the  only  kind  of  weapon  now  needed.  Seven  priests  were  to  take 
these  rude  rustic  musical  instruments,  and  they  were  to  go  around  the 
city  every  day  for  six  days — once  a  day  for  six  days  and  then  on  the 
seventh  day  they  were  to  go  around  blowing  these  rude  musical  instru- 
ments seven  times,  and  then  at  the  close  of  the  seventh  blowing  of  the 
rams'  horns  on  the  seventh  day  the  peroration  of  the  whole  scene  was 
to  be  a  shout  at  which  those  great  walls  should  tumble  from  capstone 
to  base. 

The  seventh  day  comes,  the  climacteric  day.  Joshua  is  up  early 
in  the  morning  and  examines  the  troops,  walks  all  around,  and  looks 
at  the  city  wall.  The  priests  start  to  make  the  circuit  of  the  city.  They 
go  all  around  once,  all  around  twice,  three  times,  four  times,  five  times, 
six  times,  seven  times,  and  a  failure. 

THE    VICTORIOUS    SHOUT. 

There  is  only  one  more  thing  to  do,  and  that  is  to  utter  a  great 
shout.  I  see  the  Israelitish  army  straightening  themselves  up,  filling 
their  lungs  for  a  vociferation  such  as  was  never  heard  before  and  never 
heai'd  after.  Joshua  feels  that  the  hour  has  come,  and  he  cries  out  to 
his  host,  "  Shout,  for  the  Lord  hath  given  you  the  city  !"  All  the  people 


,'*  .  JOSHUA'S  BATTLE-FIELDS. 

begin  to  cry,  "Down,  Jericho,  down,  Jericho!"  and  the  long  line  of 
solid  masonry  begins  to  quiver  and  to  move  and  to  rock.  Stand  from 
under !  She  falls  !  Crash  go  the  walls,  the  temples,  the  towers,  the 
palaces  !  The  air  is  blackened  with  the  dust.  The  huzza  of  the  victorious 
Israelites  and  the  groan  of  the  conquered  Canaanites  commingle,  and 
Joshua,  standing  there  in  the  debris  of  the  wall,  hears  a  voice  saying, 
"  There  shall  not  any  man  be  able  to  stand  before  thee  all  the  days  of 
thy  life." 

Only  one  house  was  spared.  Who  lives  there  ?  Some  great  king  ? 
No.  Some  woman  distinguished  for  her  great  kindly  deeds?  No. 
She  had  been  conspicuous  for  her  crimes.  It  is  the  house  of  Rahab. 
Why  was  her  house  spared  ?  Because  she  had  been  a  great  sinner  ? 
No,  but  because  she  repented,  demonstrating  to  all  the  ages  that  there 
is  mercy  for  the  chief  of  sinners.  The  red  cord  of  divine  injunction 
reached  from  her  window  to  the  ground,  so  when  the  people  saw  that 
red  cord  they  knew  it  to  be  the  divine  indication  that  they  should  not 
disturb  the  premises.  This  makes  us  think  of  the  divine  cord  of  a 
Saviour's  deliverance,  the  red  cord  of  a  Saviour's  kindness,  the  red 
cord  of  a  Saviour's  mercy,  the  red  cord  of  our  rescue.  Mercy  for  the 
chief  of  sinners  !  Put  your  trust  in  that  God  and  no  damage  shall  be- 
fall you.  When  our  world  shall  be  more  terribly  surrounded  than  was 
Jericho,  even  by  the  trumpets  of  the  judgment-day,  and  the  hills  and 
the  mountains  and  the  metal  bones  and  the  ribs  of  nature  shall  break, 
they  who  have  had  Rahab' s  faith  shall  have  Rahab's  deliverance. 

"  When  wrapt  in  fire  the  realms  of  ether  glow, 
And  heaven's  last  thunder  shakes  the  earth  below ; 
Thou  undismayed  shall  o'er  the  ruins  smile, 
And  light  thy  torch  at  nature's  funeral  pile." 

THE    CITY   OF    AI. 

But  Joshua's  troops  may  not  halt  here.  The  command  is.  "For- 
ward, march!"  There  is  the  city  of  Ai ;  it  must  be  taken.  How  shall 
it  be  taken  ?  A  scouting  party  comes  back  and  says,  "Joshua,  we  can 
do  that  without  you  ;  it  is  going  to  be  a  very  easy  job  ;  you  just  stay 
here  while  we  go  and  capture  it."  They  march  with  a  small  regiment 
in  front  of  that  city.  The  men  of  Ai  look  at  them  and  give  one  yell, 
and  the  Israelites  run  like  reindeer.  The  Northern  troops  at  Bull  Run 
did  not  make  such  rapid  time  as  these  Israelites  with  the  Canaanites 
after  them.  They  never  cut  such  a  sorry  figure  as  when  they  were  on 


JOSHUA   CAPTURING   THR   CITY   OF   AT 


THE   INHABITANTS   OF   AI   WITNESSING   THE   DEFEAT   OF   THEIR   ARMY 
348 


JOSHUAS  BATTLE-FIELDS.  340 

the  retreat.  Let  us  learn  from  this  the  folly  of  going  out  in  the  battles 
of  God  with  only  half  a  force.  Instead  of  taking  the  men  of  Ai,  the 
men  of  Ai  will  take  us  ! 

Look  at  the  church  of  God  on  the  retreat.  The  Bornesian  canni- 
bals ate  up  Munson,  the  missionary.  "Fall  back!"  said  a  great  many 
Christian  people — "  fall  back,  O  church  of  God  !  Borneo  will  never 
be  taken.  Don't  you  see  the  Bornesian  cannibals  have  eaten  up 
Munson,  the  missionary?"  Tyndall  delivers  his  lecture  at  the  Uni 
versity  of  Glasgow,  and  a  great  many  good  people  say:  "Fall  back, 

0  church  of  God  !     Don't  you  see  that  Christian  philosophy  is  going 
to  be  overcome  by  worldly  philosophy  ?    Fall  back  !"    Geology  plunges 
its  crowbar  into  the  mountains,  and  there  are  a  great  many  people  who 
say :  "  Scientific  investigation  is  going  to  overthrow  the  Mosaic  account 
of  the  creation.     Fall  back !"     Friends  of  the  church  have  never  had 
any  right  to  fall  back. 

Joshua  falls  on  his  face  in  chagrin.  It  is  the  only  time  you  ever 
see  the  back  of  his  head.  He  falls  on  his  face  and  begins  to  whine, 
and  he  says  :  "O  Lord  God,  wherefore  hast  thou  at  all  brought  this 
people  over  Jordan  to  deliver  us  into  the  hand  of  the  Amorites  to  de- 
stroy us?  Would  to  God  we  had  been  content  and  dwelt  on  the  other 
side  of  Jordan  !  For  the  Canaanites  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  land 
shall  hear  of  it,  and  shall  environ  us  round  and  cut  off  our  name  from 
the  earth." 

I  am  very  glad  Joshua  said  that.  Before  it  seemed  as  if  he  were  a 
supernatural  being,  and  therefore  could  not  be  an  example  to  us  ;  but 

1  find  he  is  a  man,  he  is  only  a  man.    Just  as  sometimes  you  find  a  man 
under  severe  opposition,  or  in  a  bad  state  of  physical  health,  or  worn  out 
with  overwork,  lying  down  and  sighing  about  everything  being  defeated. 
I  am  encouraged  when  I  hear  this  cry  of  Joshua  as  he  lies  in  the  dust 

God  comes  and  rouses  him.  How  does  he  rouse  him  ?  By  com- 
plimentary apostrophe  ?  No.  He  says:  "Get  thee  up.  Wherefore 
liest  thou  upon  thy  face  ?"  Joshua  rises,  and  I  warrant  you  with  a 
mortified  look.  But  his  old  courage  comes  back.  The  fact  was,  that 
was  not  his  battle.  If  he  had  been  in  it  he  would  have  gone  on  to  vic- 
tory. He  gathers  his  troops  around  him  and  says  :  "  Now,  let  us  go 
up  and  capture  the  city  of  Ai ;  let  us  go  up  right  away." 

They  march  on.  He  puts  the  majority  of  the  troops  behind  a 
ledge  of  rocks  in  the  night,  and  then  sends  comparatively  small 


35<>  JOSHUA'S  BATTLE-FIELDS. 

regiments  up  in  front  of  the  city.  The  men  of  Ai  come  out  with  a 
shout.  The  small  regiments  of  Israelites  in  stratagem  fall  back  and  fall 
back,  and  when  all  the  men  of  Ai  have  left  the  city  and  are  in  pursuit 
of  these  scattered  or  seemingly  scattered  regiments,  Joshua  stands  on  a 
rock.  I  see  his  locks  flying  in  the  wind  as  he  points  his  spear  toward 
the  doomed  city,  and  that  is  the  signal.  The  men  rush  out  from  be- 
hind the  rocks  and  take  the  city,  and  it  is  put  to  the  torch,  and  then 
these  Israelites  in  the  city  march  down  and  the  flying  regiments  of  Is- 
raelites return,  and  between  these  two  waves  of  Israelitish  prowess  the 
men  of  Ai  are  destroyed,  and  the  Israelites  gain  the  victory ;  and  while 
they  see  the  curling  smoke  of  that  destroyed  city  on  the  sky,  and  hear 
the  huzza  of  the  Israelites  and  the  groan  of  the  Canaanites,  Joshua 
hears  something  louder  than  it  all,  ringing  and  echoing  through  his 
soul,  "  There  shall  not  any  man  be  able  to  stand  before  thee  all  the 
days  of  thy  life." 

FORWARD,    MARCH  ! 

But  this  is  no  place  for  the  host  of  Joshua  to  stop.  "  Forward, 
march  !"  cries  Joshua  to  the  troops.  There  is  the  city  of  Gibeon.  It 
has  put  itself  under  the  protection  of  Joshua.  They  send  word,  "  There 
are  five  kings  after  us  ;  they  are  going  to  destroy  us  ;  send  troops 
quick  ;  send  us  help  right  away."  Joshua  has  a  three  days'  march  at 
more  than  double  quick.  On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  he  is  before 
the  enemy.  There  are  two  long  lines  of  battle.  The  battle  opens  with 
great  slaughter,  but  the  Canaanites  soon  discover  something.  They 
say:  "That  is  Joshua;  that  is  the  man  who  conquered  the  spring 
freshet,  and  knocked  down  the  stone  wall,  and  destroyed  the  city  of 
Ai.  There  is  no  use  fighting."  And  they  sound  a  retreat,  and  as  they 
begin  to  retreat  Joshua  and  his  hosts  spring  upon  them  like  panthers, 
pursuing  them  over  the  rocks,  and  as  these  Canaanites  with  sprained 
ankles  and  gashed  foreheads  retreat,  the  catapults  of  the  sky  pour  a  vol- 
ley of  hailstones  into  the  valley,  and  all  the  artillery  of  the  heavens 
with  bullets  of  iron  pound  the  Canaanites  against  the  ledges  of  Beth- 
heron. 

"Oh!"  says  Joshua,  "  this  is  surely  a  victory.  But  do  you  not 
see  that  the  sun  is  going  down  ?  Those  Amorites  are  going  to  get 
away  after  all,  and  then  they  will  come  up  some  other  time  and  annoy 
us,  and  perhaps  destroy  us.  See,  the  sun  is  going  down  !  Oh,  for  a 
longer  day  than  has  ever  been  seen  in  this  climate  !"  Joshua  is  in 


/OSV/#-7*S   BATTLEFIELDS.  351 

prayer.  Look  out  when  a  good  man  makes  the  Lord  his  ally.  Joshua 
raises  his  face,  radiant  with  prayer,  and  looks  at  the  descending  sun  over 
Gibeon,  and  at  the  faint  crescent  of  the  moon,  for  you  know  the  queen 
of  the  night  sometimes  will  linger  around  the  palaces  of  the  day.  Point- 
ing one  hand  at  the  descending  sun  and  uhe  other  hand  at  the  faint 
crescent  of  the  moon,  in  the  name  of  that  God  who  shaped  and  who 
moves  the  worlds,  he  cries,  "  Sun,  stand  thou  still  upon  Gibeon  ;  and 
thou  moon,  in  the  valley  of  Ajalon."  They  halt. 

Whether  it  was  by  refraction  of  the  sun's  rays  or  by  the  stopping 
of  the  whole  planetary  system  I  do  not  know  and  do  not  care.  I  leave 
it  to  the  Christian  scientists  and  the  infidel  scientists  to  settle  that 
question,  while  I  tell  you  I  have  seen  the  same  thing.  "  What !"  say 
you,  "not  the  sun  standing  still?"  Yes.  The  same  miracle  is  per- 
formed nowadays.  The  wicked  do  not  live  out  half  their  day,  and  the 
sun  sets  at  noon.  But  let  a  man  start  out  in  battle  for  God  and  the 
truth  and  against  sin,  and  the  day  of  his  usefulness  is  prolonged  and 
prolonged  and  prolonged. 

JOHN    SUMMERFIELD. 

John  Summerfield  was  a  consumptive  Methodist.  He  looked  fear' 
fully  white,  I  am  told,  as  he  stood  in  old  Sands  Street  church,  in  Brook- 
lyn, preaching  Christ,  and  when  he  stood  on  the  anniversary  platform 
in  New  York  pleading  for  the  Bible  until  unusual  and  unknown  glories 
rolled  forth  from  that  book.  When  he  was  dying  his  pillow  was 
brushed  with  the  wings  of  the  angel  from  the  skies,  the  messenger  that 
God  sent  down.  Did  John  Summerfield's  sunset?  Did  John  Sum- 
merfield's  day  end?  Oh,  no.  He  lives  on  in  his  burning  utterances 
in  behalf  of  the  Christian  church. 

Robert  McCheyne  was  a  consumptive  Presbyterian.  It  was  said 
that  when  he  preached  he  coughed  so  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  would 
never  preach  again.  His  name  is  now  fragrant  in  all  Christendom, 
that  name  mightier  to-day  than  was  ever  his  living  presence.  He  lived 
to  preach  the  Gospel  in  Aberdeen,  Edinburgh,  and  Dundee,  but  he  went 
away  very  early.  He  preached  himself  into  the  grave.  Has  Robert 
McCheyne's  sun  set?  Is  Robert  McCheyne's  day  ended ?  Oh,  no. 
His  dying  delirium  was  filled  with  prayer,  and  when  he  lifted  his  hand 
to  pronounce  the  benediction  upon  his  family  and  the  benediction  upon 
his  country,  he  seemed  to  say:  "I  cannot  die  now.  I  want  to  live  on 


S!>*  JOSHUA'S  BATTLE-FIELDS. 

and  on.  I  want  to  start  an  influence  for  the  church  that  will  never  cease. 
I  am  only  thirty  years  of  age.  Sun  of  my  Chistian  ministry,  stand  still 
over  Scotland."  And  it  stood  still. 

KINGS    TO    BE    SLAIN. 

But  Joshua  was  not  quite  through.  There  was  time  for  five  fu- 
nerals before  the  sun  of  that  prolonged  day  set.  Who  will  preach  their 
funeral  sermon  ?  Massillon  preached  the  funeral  sermon  over  Louis 
XVI.  Who  will  preach  the  funeral  sermon  of  those  five  dead  kings — 
king  of  Jerusalem,  king  of  Hebron,  king  of  Jarmuth,  king  of  Lachish, 
king  of  Eglon  ?  Let  it  be  by  Joshua.  What  is  his  text  ?  What  shall 
be  the  epitaph  put  on  the  door  of  the  tomb  ?  "There  shall  not  am 
man  be  able  to  stand  before  thee  all  the  days  of  thy  life." 

But  before  you  fasten  up  the  door  I  want  five  moro  kings  be- 
headed and  thrust  in  :  King  Alcohol,  King  Fraud,  King  Lust,  King 
Superstition,  King  Infidelity.  Let  them  be  beheaded  and  hurl  them 
in !  Then  fasten  up  the  door  forever.  What  shall  the  inscription  and 
what  shall  the  epitaph  be  ?  All  Christian  philanthropists  of  all  ages 
are  going  to  come  and  look  at  it.  What  shall  the  inscription  be  ? 
"There  shall  not  any  man  be  able  to  stand  before  thee  all  the  days  of 
thy  life." 

THE    LAST   BATTLE. 

But  it  is  time  for  Joshua  to  go  home.  He  is  1 10  years  old.  Wash 
ington  went  down  the  Potomac,  and  at  Mount  Vernon  closed  his  days. 
Wellington  died  peacefully  at  Apsley  House.  Now,  where  shall  Joshua 
rest  ?  Why,  he  is  to  have  his  greatest  battle  still.  After  1 10  years  he 
has  to  meet  a  king,  who  has  more  subjects  than  all  the  present  popu- 
lation of  the  earth,  his  throne  a  pyramid  of  skulls,  his  parterre  the  grave- 
yards and  the  cemeteries  of  the  world,  his  chariot  the  world's  hearse 
— the  king  of  terrors.  But  if  this  is  Joshua's  greatest  battle,  it  is  going 
to  be  Joshua's  greatest  victory.  He  gathers  his  friends  around  him 
and  gives  his  valedictory  and  it  is  full  of  reminiscence. 

Young  men  tell  what  they  are  going  to  do  ;  old  men  tell  what  they 
have  done.  And  as  you  have  heard  a  grandfather  or  great-grand- 
father, seated  by  the  evening  fire,  tell  of  Monmouth  or  Yorktown, 
and  then  lift  the  crutch  or  staff,  as  though  it  were  a  musket,  to  fight, 
and  show  how  the  old  battles  were  won  ;  so  Joshua  gathers  his 
friends  around  his  dying  couch,  and  tells  them  the  story  of  what 


JOSHUA ' S  BA  TTLE-FIELDS.  353 

he  has  been  through,  and  as  he  lies  there,  his  white  locks  snow- 
ing down  on  his  wrinkled  forehead,  I  wonder  if  God  has  kept  his 
promise  all.  the  way  through.  As  he  lies  there  he  tells  the  story  one, 
two,  or  three  times — you  have  heard  old  people  tell  a  story  two  or  three 
times  over — and  he  answers,  "I  go  the  way  of  all  the  earth,  and  not 
one  word  of  the  promise  has  failed,  not  one  word  thereof  has  failed  ; 
all  has  come  to  pass,  not  one  word  thereof  has  failed."  And  then  he 
turns  to  his  family,  as  a  dying  parent  will,  and  says  :  "  Choose  now 
whom  you  will  serve,  the  God  of  Israel  or  the  God  of  the  Amorites.  As 
for  me  and  my  house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord." 

A  dying  parent  cannot  be  reckless  or  thoughtless  in  regard  to  his 
children.  Consent  to  part  with  them  forever  at  the  door  of  the  tomb 
we  cannot.  By  the  cradle  in  which  their  infancy  was  rocked,  by  the 
bosom  on  which  they  first  lay,  by  the  blood  of  the  covenant,  by  the  God 
of  Joshua,  it  shall  not  be.  We  will  not  part,  we  cannot  part.  Jehovah 
Jireh,  we  take  thee  at  thy  promise,  "I  will  be  a  God  to  thee  and  thy 
seed  after  thee." 

Dead,  the  old  chieftain  must  be  laid  out.  Handle  him  very  gently ; 
that  sacred  body  is  over  a  hundred  and  ten  years  of  age.  Lay  him  out ; 
stretch  out  those  feet  that  crossed  diy-shod  the  parted  Jordan.  Close 
those  lips  which  helped  blow  the  blast  at  which  the  walls  of  Jericho  fell. 
Fold  the  arm  that  lifted  the  spear  toward  the  doomed  city  of  Ai.  Fold 
it  right  over  the  heart  that  exulted  when  the  five  kings  fell.  But  where 
shall  we  get  the  burnished  granite  for  the  headstone  and  the  footstone? 
i  bethink  myself  now.  I  imagine  that  for  the  head  it  shall  be  the  sun 
that  stood  still  upon  Gibeon,  and  for  the  foot  the  moon  that  stood  still 
in  the  valley  of  Ajalon. 


DAMASCUS-OLD  AND  NEW 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


IN  Palestine  we  spent  last  night  in  a  mud  hovel  of  one  story,  but 
with  camels  and  sheep  in  the  basement.  Yet  never  did  the  most 

brilliant  hotel  on  any  continent  seem  so  attractive  to  me  as  that 
structure.  If  we  had  been  obliged  to  stay  in  a  tent,  as  we  expected  to 
do  that  night,  we  must  have  perished.  A  violent  storm  had  opened 
upon  us  its  volleys  of  hail  and  snow  and  rain  and  wind  as  if  to  let  us 
know  what  the  Bible  means  when  prophet  and  evangelist  and  Christ 
himself  spoke  of  the  fury  of  the  elements.  The  atmospheric  wrath 
broke  upon  us  about  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  we  were  until 
night  exposed  to  it.  With  hands  and  feet  benumbed,  and  our  bodies 
chilled  to  the  bone,  we  made  our  slow  way  onward.  While  high  up  on 
the  rocks,  and  when  the  gale  was  blowing  the  hardest,  a  signal  of  distress 
lalted  the  party,  for  down  in  the  ravines  one  of  the  horses  had  fallen,  and 
his  rider  must  not  be  left  alone  amid  that  wildness  of  scenery  and  horror 
of  storm.  As  the  night  approached  the  tempest  thickened  and  black- 
ened and  strengthened.  Some  of  our  attendants,  going  ahead,  had 
gained  permission  for  us  to  halt  for  the  night  in  the  mud  hovel  already 
mentioned. 

Our  first  duty  on  arrival  was  to  resuscitate  the  exhausted  of  our 
party.  My  room  was  without  a  window,  and  an  iron  stove  without  any 
top  occupied  the  center  of  the  room,  the  smoke  selecting  my  eyes  in 
the  absence  of  a  chimney.  Through  an  opening  in  the  floor  Arab 
faces  were  several  times  thrust  up  to  see  how  I  was  progressing.  But 
the  tempest  ceased  during  the  night,  and  before  it  was  fully  day  we 
were  feeling  for  the  stirrups  of  our  saddled  horses,  this  being  the  day 
whose  long  march  was  to  bring  us  to  that  city  whose  name  cannot  be 
pronounced  in  the  hearing  of  the  intelligent  or  the  Christian  without 
making  the  blood  tingle  and  the  nerves  thrill,  and  putting  the  best 
(354) 


DAMASCUS— OLD  AND  NEW.  <*e 

emotions  of  the  soul  into  agitation — Damascus  !  During  the  day  we 
passed  Caesarea  Philippi,  the  northern  terminus  of  Christ's  journeyings. 
North  of  that  he  never  went.  We  lunched  at  noon,  seated  on  the 
fallen  columns  of  one  of  Herod's  palaces. 

IN    SIGHT    OF    DAMASCUS. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  coming  to  a  hilltop,  we  saw  on 
the  broad  plain  a  city,  which  the  most  famous  camel  driver  of  all  time, 
afterward  called  Mohammed,  the  prophet  and  the  founder  of  the  most 
stupendous  system  of  error  that  has  ever  cursed  the  earth,  refused  to 
enter  because  he  said  God  would  allow  man  to  enter  but  one  paradise, 
and  he  would  not  enter  this  earthly  paradise  lest  he  should  be  denied  en- 
trance to  the  heavenly.  But  no  city  that  I  ever  saw  so  plays  hide-ana 
seek  with  the  traveler.  The  air  is  so  clear  that  the  distant  objects 
seem  close  by.  You  come  on  the  top  of  a  hill  and  Damascus  seems  only 
a  little  way  oft,  But  down  you  go  into  a  valley,  and  you  see  nothing 
for  the  next  hair"  hour  but  barrenness  and  rocks  regurgitated  by  vol- 
canoes of  other  .ages.  Up  another  hill  and  down  again.  Up  again 
and  down  again.  But  after  your  patience  is  almost  exhausted  you 
reach  the  last  hilltop,  and  the  city  of  Damascus,  the  oldest  city  under 
the  whole  heavens,  and  built  by  Noah's  grandson,  grows  upon  your 
vision.  Every  mile  of  the  journey  now  becomes  more  solemn  and 
suggestive  and  tremendous. 

This  is  the  very  road — for  it  has  been  the  only  road  for  thousands 
of  years — from  Jerusalem  to  Damascus,  along  which  a  cavalcade  ot 
mounted  officers  went,  about  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  fifty-four 
years  ago,  in  the  midst  of  whom  a  fierce  little  man,  who  made  up  by 
•  magnitude  of  hatred  for  Christianity  for  his  diminutive  stature,  was  th^ 
leading  spirit,  and,  though  suffering  from  chronic  inflammation  of  the 
eyes,  from  those  eyes  flashed  more  indignation  against  Christ's  fol- 
lowers than  from  those  of  any  other  of  the  horsed  procession.  This  little 
man,  before  his  name  was  changed  to  Paul,  was  called  Saul.  So  many 
of  the  mightiest  natures  of  all  ages  are  condensed  into  smallness  of 
stature. 

SAUL'S  QUICK  HALT. 

Well,  that  galloping  group  of  horsemen  on  the  road  to  Damascus 
was  halted  quicker  than  bombshell  or  cavalry  charge  ever  halted  a  regi. 
ment.  The  Syrian  noonday,  because  of  the  clarity  of  the  atmosphere. 


35  6  DAMASCUS- OLD  AND  NEW. 

is  the  brightest  of  all  noondays,  and  the  noonday  sun  in  Syria  is 
positively  terrific  for  brilliance.  But  suddenly,  on  that  noon,  there 
flashed  from  the  heavens  a  light  which  made  that  Syrian  sun  seen  tame 
as  a  star  in  comparison.  It  was  the  face  of  the  slain  and  ascended 
Christ  looking  from  the  heavens,  and  under  the  dash  of  that  overpow- 
ering light  all  the  horses  dropped  with  their  riders.  Human  face  and 
horse's  mane  together  in  the  dust !  And  then  two  claps  of  thunder  fol 
lowed,  uttering  two  words,  the  second  word  like  the  first :  "  Saul !  Saul ! ' 
For  three  days  that  fallen  equestrian  was  totally  blind,  for  exces- 
sive light  will  sometimes  extinguish  the  eyesight.  And  what  cornea 
and  crystalline  lens  could  endure  a  brightness  greater  than  the  noon- 
day Syrian  sun?  I  had  read  it  a  hundred  times,  but  it  never  so  im- 
pressed me  before,  and  probably  will  never  so  impress  me  again,  as 
when  I  took  my  Bible  from  the  saddle-bags  and  read  aloud  to  our 
comrades  in  travel:  "As  he  journeyed  he  came  near  Damascus,  and 
suddenly  there  shined  round  about  him  a  light  from  heaven,  and  he 
fell  to  the  earth  and  heard  a  voice  saying  unto  him  :  '  Saul !  Saul !  why 
persecutes!  thou  me  ? '  And  he  said,  'Who  art  thou,  Lord?'  And 
the  Lord  said,  'I  am  Jesus,  whom  thou  persecutest.' ' 

FRUITFULNESS    OF    DAMASCUS. 

But  we  cannot  stop  longer  on  this  road,  for  we  shall  see  this  un- 
horsed equestrian  later  in  Damascus,  toward  which  his  horse's  head 
is  turned  and  at  which  we  must  ourselves  arrive  before  night.  The 
evening  is  near  at  hand,  and  as  we  leave  snowy  Hermon  behind  us, 
and  approach  the  shadow  of  the  cupolas  of  two  hundred  mosques,  we 
cut  through  a  circumference  of  many  miles  of  garden  which  embower 
the  city.  So  luxuriant  are  these  gardens,  so  opulent  in  colors,  so  lus- 
cious of  fruits,  so  glittering  with  fountains,  so  rich  with  bowers  and 
kiosks,  that  the  Mohammedan's  heaven  was  fashioned  after  what  are 
to  be  seen  here  of  bloom  and  fruitage.  Here  in  Damascus,  at  the 
right  season,  are  cherries  and  mulberries  and  apricots  and  alrncnds 
and  pistachios  and  pomegranates  and  pears  and  apples  and  plums  and 
citrons  and  all  the  richness  of  the  round  world's  pomology.  No 
wonder  that  Julian  called  this  city  "the  eye  of  the  east,"  and  that  the 
poets  of  Syria  have  styled  it  "the  luster  on  the  neck  of  doves,"  and 
historians  have  said,  "It  is  the  golden  clasp  which  couples  the  two 
sides  of  the  world  together." 


DAMASCUS— OLD  AND  NEW.  359 

Many  travelers  express  disappointment  with  Damascus,  but  the 
trouble  is  that  they  have  carried  in  their  minds  from  boyhood  the  book 
which  dazzles  so  many  young  people — "The  Arabian  Nights" — and 
they  come  into  Damascus  looking  for  Aladdin's  lamp  and  Aladdin's 
ring  and  the  genii  which  appeared  by  rubbing  them.  But,  as  I  have 
never  read  "The  Arabian  Nights,"  such  stuff  not  being  allowed  around 
our  house  in  my  boyhood,  and  nothing  lighter  in  the  way  of  reading 
than  Baxter's  "Saints'  Everlasting  Rest"  and  D'Aubigny's  "History 
of  the  Reformation,"  Damascus  appeared  to  me  as  sacred  and  secular 
histories  have  presented  it,  and  so  the  city  was  not  a  disappointment, 
but  with  few  exceptions  a  surprise. 

THE    RIVERS    ABANA  AND    PHARPAR. 

Under  my  window  to-night,  in  the  hotel  at  Damascus,  I  hear  the 
perpetual  ripple  and  rush  of  the  river  Abana.  Ah,  the  secret  is  out ! 
Now  I  know  why  all  this  flora  and  fruit  appears,  and  why  everything 
is  so  green,  and  the  plain  one  great  emerald.  The  river  Abana  !  And 
not  far  off  the  river  Pharpar,  which  our  horses  waded  through  to-day ! 
Thank  the  rivers,  or  rather  the  God  who  made  the  rivers  !  Deserts 
to  the  north,  deserts  to  the  south,  deserts  to  the  east,  deserts  to  the 
west,  but  here  a  paradise.  And  as  the  rivers  Gihon  and  Pison  and 
Hiddekel  and  Euphrates  made  the  other  paradise,  Abana  and  Pharpar 
make  this  Damascus  a  paradise.  That  is  what  made  General  Naaman 
of  this  city  of  Damascus  so  angry  when  he  was  told  for  the  cure  of  his 
leprosy  to  go  and  wash  in  the  river  Jordan. 

The  river  Jordan  is,  during  much  of  the  year,  a  muddy  stream, 
and  it  is  never  so  clear  as  this  river  Abana  that  I  hear  rumbling  under 
my  window  to-night,  nor  as  the  river  Pharpar  that  we  crossed  to-day. 
They  are  as  clear  as  though  they  had  been  sieved  through  some 
special  sieve  of  the  mountains.  General  Naaman  had  great  and 
patriotic  pride  in  these  two  rivers  of  his  own  country,  and  when 
Elisha  the  prophet  told  him  that  if  he  wanted  to  get  rid  of  his  leprosy 
he  must  go  and  wash  in  the  Jordan,  he  felt  as  we  who  live  on  the 
magnificent  Hudson  would  feel  if  told  that  we  must  go  and  wash  in 
the  muddy  Thames  ;  or  as  if  those  who  live  on  the  transparent  Rhine 
were  told  that  they  must  go  and  wash  in  the  muddy  Tiber.  So  General 
Naaman  cried  out  with  a  voice  as  loud  as  ever  he  had  used  in  com- 
manding his  troops,  uttering  those  memorable  words  which  every 


cfr.  DAMASCUS— OLD  AND  NEW. 

minister  of  the  gospel  sooner  or  later  takes  for  his  text:  "Are  not 
Abana  and  Pharpar,  rivers  of  Damascus,  better  than  the  waters  of 
Israel  ?  May  I  not  wash  in  them  and  be  clean  ?  " 

MOHAMMEDAN    WORSHIP. 

w  We  are  awakened  in  the  morning  in  Damascus  by  the  song  of  those 
who  have  different  styles  of  food  to  sell.  It  is  not  a  street  cry  as  in 
London  or  New  York,  but  a  weird  and  long  drawn  out  solo,  compared 
with  which  a  buzz  saw  is  musical.  It  makes  you  inopportunely  waken 
and  will  not  let  you  sleep  again.  But  to  those  who  understand  the 
exact  meaning  of  the  song,  it  becomes  quite  tolerable,  for  they  sing: 
"God  is  the  nourisher,  buy  my  bread  ;"  "God  is  the  nourisher,  buy 
my  milk;"  "God  is  the  nourisher,  buy  my  fruit."  As  you  look  out 
of  the  window  you  see  the  Mohammedans,  who  are  in  large  majority 
in  the  city,  at  prayer.  And  if  it  were  put  to  vote  who  should  be 
king  of  all  the  earth,  fifteen  thousand  in  that  city  would  say  Christ, 
but  one  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  would  say  Mohammed. 

Looking  from  the  window,  you  see  on  the  housetops  and  on  the 
streets  Mohammedans  at  worship.  The  muezzin,  or  the  officers  of 
religion,  who  announce  the  time  of  worship,  appear  high  up  on  the 
different  minarets  or  tall  towers,  and  walk  around  the  minaret,  inclosed 
by  a  railing,  and  cry  in  a  sad  and  mumbling  way  :  "God  is  great.  I 
bear  witness  that  there  is  no  God  but  God.  I  bear  witness  that  Mo- 
hammed is  the  apostle  of  God.  Come  to  prayers  !  Come  to  salva- 
tion !  God  is  great.  There  is  no  other  but  God.  Prayers  are  bettei 
than  sleep."  Five  times  a  day  must  the  Mohammedan  engage  in 
worship. 

There  are  two  or  three  commendable  things  about  Mohammedan- 
ism. One  is  that  its  disciples  wash  before  every  act  of  prayer,  and 
that  is  five  times  a  day,  and  there  is  a  gospel  of  cleanliness.  Another 
commendable  thing  is,  they  don't  care  who  is  looking,  and  nothing 
can  stop  them  in  their  prayer.  Another  thing  is,  that  by  the  order  of 
Mohammed,  and  an  order  obeyed  for  thirteen  hundred  years,  no 
Mohammedan  touches  strong  drink.  But  the  polygamy,  the  many 
wifehood  of  Mohammedanism,  has  made  that  religion  the  unutterable 
and  everlasting  curse  of  woman,  and  when  woman  sinks,  the  race 
sinks.  The  proposition  recently  made  in  high  ecclesiastical  places  for 
the  reformation  of  Mohammedanism,  instead  of  its  obliteration,  is  like 


DAMASCUS— OLD  AND  NEW.  361 

an  attempt  to  improve  a  plague  or  educate  a  leprosy.  There  is  only 
one  thing  that  will  ever  reform  Mohammedanism,  and  that  is  its  ex- 
tirpation from  the  face  of  the  earth  by  the  power  of  the  gospel  of  the 
Son  of  God,  which  makes  not  only  man  but  woman  free  for  this  life 
and  free  for  the  life  to  come. 

A    MODERN    MASSACRE. 

The  spirit  of  the  horrible  religion  which  pervades  the  city  of 
Damascus,  along  whose  streets  we  walk  and  out  of  whose  bazars  we 
make  purchases,  and  in  whose  mosques  we  study  the  wood  carvings 
and  bedizenments,  was  demonstrated  as  late  as  1860,  when  in  this 
city  it  put  to  death  six  thousand  Christians  in  forty-eight  hours,  and 
put  to  the  torch  three  thousand  Christian  homes,  and  those  streets  we 
walk  to-day  were  red  with  carnage,  and  the  shrieks  and  groans  of  the 
dying  and  dishonored  men  and  women  made  this  place  a  hell  on  earth. 
This  went  on  until  a  Mohammedan  better  than  his  religion,  Abd-el- 
Kader  by  name — a  great  soldier,  who  in  one  war  had  with  twenty-five 
hundred  troops  beaten  sixty  thousand  of  the  enemy — protested  against 
this  massacre,  and  gathered  the  Christians  of  Damascus  into  castles 
and  private  houses,  and  filled  his  own  home  with  the  affrighted  sufferers. 

After  a  while  the  mob  came  to  his  door  and  demanded  the 
"Christian  dogs"  whom  he  was  sheltering.  And  Abd-el-Kader 
mounted  ahorse  and  drew  his  sword,  and  with  a  few  of  his  old  soldiers 
around  him  charged  on  the  mob  and  cried:  "Wretches!  Is  this  the 
way  you  honor  the  prophet?  May  his  curses  be  upon  you  !  Shame 
on  you  !  Shame !  You  will  yet  live  to  repent.  You  think  you  may 
do  as  you .  please  with  the  Christians,  but  the  day  of  retribution  will 
come.  The  Franks  will  yet  turn  your  mosques  into  churches.  Not  a 
Christian  will  I  give  up.  They  are  my  brothers.  Stand  back  or  I  will 
give  my  men  the  order  to  fire."  Then  by  the  might  of  one  great  soul 
under  God  the  wave  of  assassination  rolled  back.  Huzza  for  Abd-el- 
Kader  !  Although  now  we  Americans  and  foreigners  pass  through 
the  streets  of  Damascus  unhindered,  there  is  in  many  parts  of  the  city 
the  subdued  hissing  of  a  hatred  for  Christianity  that  if  it  dared  would 
put  to  death  every  man,  woman,  and  child  in  Damascus  who  does  not 
declare  allegiance  to  Mohammed. 

But  I  am  glad  to  say  that  a  wide,  hard,  splendid  turnpike  road  has 
within  a  few  years  been  constructed  from  Beyrout,  on  the  shore  of  the 


*«*  DAMASCUS— OLD  AND  NEW. 

Mediterranean,  to  this  city  of  Damascus,  and,  if  ever  again  that  whole- 
sale assassination  were  attempted,  French  troops  and  English  troops 
would,  with  jingling  bits  and  lightning  hoofs,  dash  up  the  hills  and 
down  on  this  Damascus  plain,  and  leave  the  Mohammedan  murderers 
dead  on  the  floor  of  their  mosques  and  seraglios.  It  is  too  late  in  the 
history  of  the  world  for  governments  to  allow  such  things  as  the  mod- 
ern massacre  at  Damascus.  For  such  murderous  attacks  on  Christian 
disciples  the  gospel  is  not  so  appropriate  as  bullets  or  sabers  sharp  and 
heavy  enough  to  cut  through  with  one  stroke  from  crown  of  head  to 
saddle. 

THE    OLD    DAMASCUS. 

But  I  must  say  that  this  city  of  Damascus,  as  I  see  it  now,  is  not 
so  absorbing  as  the  Damascus  of  olden  times.  I  turn  my  back  upon 
the  bazars  ;  with  rugs  from  Bagdad,  fascinating  the  merchants,  and  the 
Indian  textile  fabric  of  incomparable  make,  and  the  manufactured  sad- 
dles and  bridles  gay  enough  for  princes  of  the  orient  to  ride  and  pull ; 
and  on  baths  where  ablution  becomes  inspiration  ;  and  on  the  homes  of 
those  bargain  makers  of  to-day,  marbled  and  divanned  and  fountained 
and  upholstered  and  mosaiced  and  arabesqued  and  colonnaded  until 
nothing  can  be  added ;  and  on  the  splendid  remains  of  the  great  mosque 
of  John,  originally  built  with  gates  so  heavy  that  it  required  five  men 
to  turn  them,  and  columns  of  porphyry  and  kneeling  places  framed  in 
diamond,  and  seventy-four  stained  glass  windows,  and  six  hundred 
lamps  of  pure  gold — a  single  prayer  offered  in  this  mosque  said  to  be 
worth  thirty  thousand  prayers  offered  in  any  other  place  ! 

I  turn  my  back  on  all  these,  and  see  Damascus  as  it  was  when  this 
narrow  street,  which  the  Bible  calls  Straight,  was  a  great  wide  street, 
a  New  York  Broadway  or  a  Parisian  Champs  Elysees,  a  great  thor- 
oughfare crossing  the  city  from  gate  to  gate,  along  which  tramped  and 
rolled  the  pomp  of  all  nations.  There  goes  Abraham,  the  father  of  all 
the  faithful.  He  has  in  this  city  been  purchasing  a  celebrated  slave. 
There  goes  Ben  Hadad  of  Bible  times,  leading  thirty-two  conquered 
monarchs.  There  goes  David,  king,  warrior  and  sacred  poet.  There  \ 
goes  Tamerlane,  the  conqueror.  There  goes  Haroun  al  Raschid,  once 
the  commander  of  an  army  of  ninety-five  thousand  Persians  and  Arabs. 
There  comes  a  warrior  on  his  way  to  the  barracks,  carrying  that  kind 
of  sword  which  the  world  has  forgotten  how  to  make — a  Damascus 

G> 

blade,  with  the  interlacings  of  color  changing  at  every  new  turn  of  the 


DAMASCUS-- OLD  AND  NEW. 


5*3 


light,  many  colors  coming  and  going  and  interjoining,  the  blade  so 
keen  it  could  cut  in  twain  an  object  without  making  the  lower  part  of 
the  object  tremble,  with  an  elasticity  that  could  not  be  broken,  though 
you  brought  the  point  of  the  sword  clear  back  to  the  hilt,  and  having  a 


COURT-YARD  IN  DAMASCUS. 

watered  appearance  which  made  the  blade  seem  as  though  just  dipped 
In  a  clear  fountain — a  triumph  of  cutlery  which  a  thousand  modern 
foundrymen  and  chemists  have  attempted  in  vain  to  imitate.  On  the 


364  DAMASCUS— OLD  AND  NEW. 

side  of  this  street  are  seen  damasks,  named  after  this  city — figures  of 
animals  and  fruits  and  landscapes  here  being  first  wrought  into  silk- 
damasks,  and  specimens  of  damaskeening,  by  which  in  this  city  steel 
and  iron  were  first  grooved,  and  then  the  grooves  filled  with  wire  of 
gold.  But  stand  back  or  be  run  over,  for  here  are  at  the  gates  of  the 
city  laden  caravans  from  Aleppo  in  one  direction,  and  from  Jerusalem 
in  another  direction,  and  caravans  of  all  nations,  paying  toll  to  this 
supremacy.  Great  is  Damascus  ! 

SIGHT   TO    THE    BLIND. 

But  what  most  stirs  my  soul  is  neither  chariot,  nor  caravan,  nor 
bazar,  nor  palace,  but  a  blind  man  passing  along  the  street,  small  of 
stature  and  insignificant  in  personal  appearance.  Oh,  yes,  we  have 
seen  him  before.  He  was  one  of  that  cavalcade  coming  from  Jerusa- 
lem to  Damascus  to  kill  Christians,  and  we  saw  him  and  his'  horse 
tumble  up  there  on  the  road  some  distance  out  of  the  city,  and  he  got 
up  blind.  Yes,  it  is  Saul  of  Tarsus  now  going  along  this  street  called 
Straight.  He  is  led  by  his  friends,  for  he  cannot  see  his  hand  before 
his  face,  unto  the  house  of  Judas — not  Judas  the  bad  but  Judas-  the 
good.  In  another  part  of  the  city  one  Ananias — not  Ananias  the  liar, 
but  Ananias  the  Christian — is  told  by  the  Lord  to  go  to  this  house  of 
Judas  on  Straight  street  and  put  his  hands  on  the  blind  eyes  of  Saul 
that  his  sight  might  return.  "  Oh,"  said  Ananias,  "  I  dare  not  go  ;  that 
Saul  is  a  terrible  fellow.  He  kills  Christians,  and  he  will  kill  me." 
"  Go,"  said  the  Lord,  and  Ananias  went. 

There  sat  in  blindness  that  tremendous  persecutor.  His  was  a 
great  nature  crushed.  He  started  for  the  city  of  Damascus  for  the  one 
purpose  of  assassinating  Christ's  followers,  but  since  that  fall  from  his 
horse  he  had  entirely  changed.  Ananias  stepped  up  to  the  sightless 
man,  put  his  right  thumb  on  one  eye  and  the  left  thumb  on  the  other 
eye,  and  in  an  outburst  of  sympathy  and  love  and  faith,  said  :  "  Brother 
Saul !  Brother  Saul !  the  Lord,  even  Jesus  that  appeared  unto  thee  in 
the  way  as  thou  earnest,  has  sent  me  that  thou  mayst  receive  thy  sight 
and  be  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Instantly  something  like  scales  fell  from  the  blind  man's  eyes, 
and  he  arose  from  that  seat  the  mightiest  evangel  of  all  the  ages,  a  Sir 
William  Hamilton  for  metaphysical  analysis,  a  John  Milton  for  sublimity 
of  thought,  a  Whitefield  for  popular  eloquence,  a  John  Howard  for 


DAMASCUS— OLD  AND  NEW.  3«5 

widespread  philanthropy,  but  more  than  all  of  them  put  together,  in- 
spired, thunderbolted,  multipotent,  apostolic.  Did  Judas,  the  kind 
host  of  this  blind  man,  or  Ananias,  the  visitor,  see  scales  drop  from  the 
sightless  eyes?  I  think  not.  But  Paul  knew  they  had  fallen,  and  that 
is  all  that  happens  to  any  of  us  when  we  are  converted.  The  blinding 
scales  drop  from  our  eyes  and  we  see  things  differently. 

Sometimes  the  scales  do  not  all  fall  at  once.  When  I  was  a 
boy  at  Mount  Pleasant,  one  Sunday  afternoon  reading  Doddrige's 
"Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion  in  the  Soul,"  that  afternoon  some  of 
the  scales  fell  from  my  eyes  and  I  saw  a  little.  After  I  had  been  in 
l:he  ministry  about  a  year,  one  Sunday  afternoon  in  the  village  parson- 
age, reading  the  Bible  story  of  the  Syro  Phenician's  faith,  other  scales 
fell  from  my  eyes  and  I  saw  better.  Still  later,  while  preparing  for  an 
evening  service,  I  picked  up  a  book  that  I  did  not  remember  to  have 
seen  before,  and  after  I  had  read  a  page  about  reconsecration  to  God, 
I  think  the  remaining  scales  fell  from  my  eyes,  and  I  saw  as  Paul  saw 
ifter  Ananias  had  touched  his  eyes. 


LORD.  THAT  I  MAY  RECEIVE  MY  SIGHT 


AA1ONG  THE  HOLY  HILLS 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGL 


WHAT  a  splendid  sleep  I  had  last  night  in  a  Catholic  convent—- 
my first  sleep  within  doors  since  leaving  Jerusalem — and  all 
of  us  as  kindly  treated  as  though  we  had  been  the  pope  and 
Lis  college  of  cardinals  passing  that  way.  Last  evening  the  genial 
sisterhood  of  the  convent  ordered  a  hundred  bright-eyed  Arab  children 
to  be  brought  out  to  sing  for  me,  and  it  was  glorious  !  This  morning 
1  come  out  on  the  steps  of  the  convent  and  look  upon  the  most  beau- 
tiful village  of  all  Palestine,  its  houses  of  white  limestone.  Guess  its 
name.  Nazareth,  historical  Nazareth  ;  one  of  the  trinity  of  places  that 
all  Christian  travelers  must  see,  or  feel  that  they  have  not  seen  Pales- 
tine; namely,  Bethlehem — Jerusalem — Nazareth.  Babyhood,  boyhood, 
manhood  of  Him  for  whom  I  believe  there  are  fifty  million  people  who 
would  now,  if  it  were  required,  march  out  and  die,  whether  under  axe, 
or  down  in  the  floods,  or  straight  through  the  fire. 

NAZARETH. 

A  grand  old  village  is  Nazareth,  even  putting  aside  its  sacred  as- 
sociations. First  of  all,  it  is  clean  ;  and  that  can  be  said  of  few  of  the 
oriental  villages.  Its  neighboring  town  of  Nablous  is  the  filthiest  town 
I  ever  saw,  although  its  chief  industry  is  the  manufacture  of  soap.  They 
export  all  of  i  .  Besides  that,  Nazareth  has  been  the  scene  of  battles 
passing  it  from  Israelite  to  Mohammedan,  and  from  Mohammedan  to 
Christian,  the  most  wonderful  of  the  battles  being  that  in  which  twenty- 
five  thousand  Turks  were  beaten  by  twenty-one  hundred  French,  Na- 
polson  Bonaparte  commanding — that  greatest  of  French  commanders 
walking  these  very  streets  through  which  Jesus  walked  for  nearly  thirty 
years.  Morally,  these  two  were  as  widely  separated  as  the  antipodes, 
the  snows  of  Russia  and  the  plagues  of  Egypt  appropriately  following 

36? 


j68  AMONG  THE  HOLY  HILLS. 

the  one,  the  doxologies  of  earth  and  the  hallelujahs  of  heaven  appro- 
priately following  the  other. 

And  then  this  town  is  so  beautifully  situated  in  a  great  green  bowl, 
the  sides  of  the  bowl  being  the  surrounding  fifteen  hills.  The  God  of 
nature,  who  is  the  God  of  the  Bible,  evidently  scooped  out  this  valley  for 
privacy  and  separation  from  all  the  world  during  three  most  important 
decades,  the  thirty  years  of  Christ's  boyhood  and  youth  ;  for  of  the 
thirty-three  years  of  Christ's  stay  on  earth  he  spent  thirty  of  them  in 
this  town  getting  ready — a  startling  rebuke  to  those  who  have  no  pa- 
tience with  the  long  years  of  preparation  necessary  when  they  enter  on 
any  special  mission  for  the  church  or  the  world. 

BOYHOOD    OF   JESUS. 

All  Christ's  boyhood  was  spent  in  this  village  and  its  surroundings. 
There  is  the  very  well,  called  "The  Fountain  of  the  Virgin,"  to  which, 
by  his  mother's  side,  he  trotted  along,  holding  her  hand.  No  doubt 
about  it ;  it  is  the  only  well  in  the  village,  and  it  has  been  the  only  well 
for  three  thousand  years.  This  morning  we  visit  it,  and  the  mothers 
have  their  children  with  them  now  as  then.  The  work  of  drawing 
water  in  all  ages  in  those  countries  has  been  women's  work.  Scores 
of  them  are  waiting  for  their  turn  at  it,  three  great  and  everlasting 
springs  rolling  out  into  that  well  their  barrels,  their  hogsheads  of  water, 
in  floods  gloriously  abundant.  The  well  is  surrounded  by  olive  groves 
and  wide  spaces,  in  which  people  talk,  and  children,  wearing  charms  on 
their  heads  as  protection  against  the  "evil  eye,"  are  playing,  and 
women,  with  their  strings  of  coin  on  either  side  of  their  face,  and  in 
skirts  of  blue,  and  scarlet,  and  white,  and  green,  move  on  with  water- 
jars  on  their  heads. 

While  one  day  he  stood  on  a  high  point  where  now  stands  the 
tomb  of  Neby  Ismail,  he  had  seen  winging  past  him  so  near  as  almost 
to  flurry  his  hair  the  partridge,  and  the  hoopoe,  and  the  thrush,  and  the 
osprey,  and  the  crane,  and  the  raven  ;  and  no  wonder  that  afterward, 
in  his  manhood  sermon,  he  said,  "  Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air."  In 
Nazareth,  and  on  the  road  to  it,  there  are  a  great  many  camels.  I  see 
them  now  in  memory,  making  their  slow  way  up  the  zigzag  road  from 
the  plain  of  Esdraelon  to  Nazareth.  Familiar  was  Christ  with  their 
appearance,  also  with  that  small  insect,  the  gnat,  which  he  had  seen  his 
mother  strain  out  from  a  cup  of  water  or  pail  of  milk ;  and  no  wonder 


JESUS  WORKING  AT  THE  TRADE  OF  CARPENTER 


369 


370 


AMONG  TFTE  HOLY  HILLS.  371 

he  brings  afterward  the  large  quadruped  and  the  small  insect  into 
his  sermon,  and,  while  seeing  the  Pharisees  careful  about  small  sins  and 
reckless  about  large  ones,  cries  out:  "Woe  unto  you,  blind  guides, 
which  strain  out  a  gnat  and  swallow  a  camel." 

BIRTH-PLACE    OF    PARABLES. 

He  had  in  boyhood  seen  the  shepherds  get  their  flocks  mixed  up, 
and  to  one  not  familiar  with  the  habits  of  shepherds  and  their  flocks, 
Hopelessly  mixed  up.  And  a  sheep-stealer  appears  on  the  scene,  and 
dishonestly  demands  some  of  those  sheep,  when  he  owns  not  one  ol 
them.  "Well,"  say  the  two  honest  shepherds,  "we  will  soon  settle 
this  matter,"  and  one  shepherd  goes  out  in  one  direction,  and  the  other 
shepherd  goes  out  in  the  other  direction,  and  the  sheep-stealer  in 
another  direction,  and  each  one  calls,  and  the  flocks  of  each  of  the  hon- 
est shepherds  rush  to  their  owner,  while  the  sheep-stealer  calls  and 
calls  again,  but  gets  not  one  of  the  flock.  No  wonder  that  Christ,  years 
after,  preaching  on  a  great  occasion,  and  illustrating  his  own  shepherd 
qualities,  says  :  "  When  he  putteth  forth  his  own  sheep  he  goeth  before 
them,  and  the  sheep  follow  him,  for  they  know  his  voice,  and  the  stranger 
they  will  not  follow,  for  they  know  not  the  voice  of  the  stranger." 

The  sides  of  these  hills  are  terraced  for  grapes.  The  boy  Christ 
had  often  stood  with  great  round  eyes  watching  the  trimming  of  the 
grape-vines.  Clip  !  goes  the  knife  and  off  falls  a  branch.  The  child 
Christ  says  to  the  farmer,  "What  do  you  do  that  for?"  "Oh,"  says 
the  farmer,  "that  is  a  derd  branch,  and  it  is  doing  nothing,  and  is  only 
in  the  way,  so  I  cut  it  off."  Then  the  farmer,  with  his  sharp  knife, 
prunes  from  a  living  branch  this  and  that  tendril,  and  the  other  ten- 
dril. "  But,"  says  the  child  Christ,  "  these  twigs  that  you  cutoff  now 
are  not  dead.  What  do  you  do  that  for?"  "  Oh,"  says  the  farmer, 
"  we  prune  off  these  that  the  main  branch  may  have  more  of  the  sap,  and 
so  be  more  fruitful."  No  wonder  that  in  after  years  Christ  said  in  his 
sermon  :  "  I  am  the  true  vine  and  my  Father  is  the  husbandman  ;  every 
branch  in  me  that  beareth  not  fruit  he  taketh  away,  and  every  branch 
that  beareth  fruit  he  purgeth  it,  that  it  may  bring  forth  more  fruit." 
Capital  !  No  one  who  had  not  been  a  country  boy  would  have  said  that. 

CITY   INDEBTED    TO    COUNTRY. 

This  country  boy  of  Nazareth  came  forth  to  atone  lor  the  sins  of 
the  world,  and  to  correct  the  follies  of  the  world,  and  to  stamp  out  the 


AMONG  THE  HOLY  HILLS.  373 

cruelties  of  the  world,  and  to  illumine  the  darkness  of  the  world,  and 
to  transfigure  the  hemispheres.  So  it  has  been  the  mission  of  the  coun- 
try boys  in  all  ages  to  transform,  and  inspire,  and  rescue.  They  come 
into  our  merchandise,  and  our  court-rooms,  and  our  healing  art,  and 
our  studios,  and  our  theology.  They  lived  in  Nazareth  before  they  en- 
tered Jerusalem.  And  but  for  that  annual  influx,  our  cities  would  have 
enervated,  and  sickened,  and  slain  the  race.  Late  hours,  and  hurtful 
apparel,  and  overtaxed  digestive  organs,  and  crowding  environments 
of  city  life  would  have  halted  the  world,  but  the  valleys  and  mountains, 
of  Nazareth  have  given  fresh  supply  of  health  and  moral  invigoration 
to  Jerusalem,  and  the  country  saves  the  town. 

From  the  hills  of  New  Hampshire,  and  the  hills  of  Virginia,  and 
the  hills  of  Georgia,  came  into  our  national  eloquence  the  Websters, 
and  the  Clays,  and  the  Henry  W.  Gradys.  From  the  plain  homes  of 
Massachusetts  and  Maryland  came  into  our  national  charities  the 
George  Peabodys  and  the  William  Corcorans.  From  the  cabins  of  the 
lonely  country  regions  came  into  our  national  destinies  the  Andrew 
Jacksons  and  the  Abraham  Lincolns.  From  plowboy's  furrow,  and  vil- 
lage counter,  and  blacksmith's  forge,  came  most  of  our  city  giants. 
Nearly  all  the  Messiahs  in  all  departments  dwelt  in  Nazareth  before 
they  came  to  Jerusalem.  I  send  this  day  thanks  from  these  cities, 
mostly  made  prosperous  by  country  boys,  to  the  farm-houses,  and  the 
prairies,  and  the  mountain  cabins,  and  the  obscure  homesteads  of  north, 
and  south,  and  east,  and  west,  to  the  fathers  and  mothers  in  plain 
homespun,  if  they  be  still  alive,  or  the  hillocks  under  which  they  sleep 
the  long  sleep.  Thanks  from  Jerusalem  to  Nazareth. 

A  gentleman  long  ago  entered  a  school  in  Germany,  and  bowed 
very  low  before  the  boys,  and  the  teacher  said,  "  Why  do  you  do  that  ?" 
"  Oh,"  said  the  visitor,  "I  do  not  know  what  mighty  man  may  yet  be 
developed  among  them."  At  that  instant  the  eyes  of  one  of  the  boys 
flashed  fire.  Who  was  it  ?  Martin  Luther.  A  lad  on  his  way  to  school 
passed  a  doorstep  on  which  sat  a  lame  and  invalid  child.  The  passing 
boy  said  to  him,  "  Why  don't  you  go  to  school  ?"  "Oh,  I  am  lame  and 
I  can't  walk  to  school  !"  "  Get  on  my  back,"  said  the  well  boy,  "and 
T  will  carry  you  to  school."  And  so  he  did,  that  day  and  for  many 
days,  until  the  invalid  was  fairly  started  on  the  road  to  an  education. 
Who  was  the  well  boy  that  did  that  kindness?  I  don't  know.  Who 
was  the  invalid  he  carried  ?  It  was  Robert  Hall,  the  rapt  pulpit  orator 


J74  AMONG  THE  HOLY  HILLS. 

of  all  Christendom.     Better  give  to  the  boys  who  come  up  from  Naza- 
reth to  Jerusalem  a  crown  instead  of  a  cross. 

AN    OLD-TIME    CARPENTER-SKOP. 

On  this  December  morning  in  Palestine,  on  our  way  out  from 
Nazareth,  \ve  saw  just  such  a  carpenter-shop  as  Jesus  worked  in,  sup- 
porting his  widowed  mother,  after  he  was  old  enough  to  do  so.  I  looked 
in,  and  there  were  hammer,  and  saw,  and  plane,  and  auger,  and  vise, 
and  measuring  rule,  and  chisel,  and  drill,  and  adze,  and  wrench,  and 
bit,  and  all  the  tools  of  carpentry.  Think  of  it !  He  who  smoothed 
the  surface  of  the  earth  shoving  the  plane.  He  who  cleft  the  mountains 
by  earthquake  pounding  a  chisel.  He  who  opened  the  mammoth  caves 
of  the  earth  turning  an  auger.  He  who  wields  the  thunderbolt  striking 
with  a  hammer.  He  who  scooped  out  the  bed  of  the  ocean  hollowing 
a  ladle.  He  who  flashes  the  morning  on  the  earth,  and  makes  the  mid- 
night heavens  quiver  with  aurora,  constructing  a  window.  I  cannot 
understand  it,  but  I  believe  it. 

A  skeptic  said  to  an  old  clergyman,  "I  will  not  believe  anything  I 
cannot  explain."  "Indeed  !"  said  the  clergyman.  "You  will  not  be- 
lieve anything  you  cannot  explain  ?  Please  to  explain  to  me  why  some 
cows  have  horns  and  others  have  no  horns."  "  No,"  said  the  skeptic  ; 
"  I  did  not  mean  exactly  that  I  mean  that  I  will  not  believe  anything 
I  have  not  seen."  "  Indeed  !"  said  the  clergyman.  "  You  will  not  be- 
lieve anything  you  have  not  seen  ?  Have  you  a  backbone?"  "  Yes  " 
said  the  skeptic.  "  How  do  you  know  ?"  said  the  clergyman.  "  Have 
you  ever  seen  it?'"  This  mystery  of  Godhead  and  humanity  inter- 
joined  I  cannot  understand,  and  I  cannot  explain,  but  I  believe  it.  I 
am  glad  there  are  so  many  things  w<e  cannot  understand,  for  that  leaves 
something  for  heaven.  If  we  knew  everything  here,  heaven  would  be  a 
great  indolence. 

VILLAGE   OF    CANA. 

In  about  two  hours  we  pass  through  Cana,  the  village  of  Palestine 
where  the  mother  of  Christ  and  our  Lord  attended  the  wedding  of  a 
poor  relative,  having  come  over  from  Nazareth  for  that  purpose. 
The  mother  of  Christ — for  \vomen  are  first  to  notice  such  things — found 
that  the  provisions  had  fallen  short,  and  told  this  to  Christ,  and  he,  to  re- 
lieve the  embarrassment  of  the  housekeeper,  who  had  invited  more 
guests  than  the  pantry  warranted,  became  the  butler  of  the  occasion, 


AMONG  THE  HOLY  HILLS.  375 

and  out  of  a  cluster  of  a  few  sympathetic  words  squeezed  a  beverage 
of  a  hundred  and  twenty-six  gallons  of  wine  in  which  was  not  one  drop 
of  intoxicant,  or  it  would  have  left  that  party  as  maudlin  and  drunk  as 
the  g/eat  centennial  banquet  in  New  York  two  years  ago  left  senators, 
and  governors,  and  generals,  and  merchant  princes. 

The  difference  between  the  wine  at  the  wedding  in  Cana  and  the 
wint  at  the  banquet  in  New  York  was  that  the  Lord  made  the  one 
and  \he  devil  made  the  other.  You  see,  there  was  no  strychnine,  or 
logwood,  or  nux  vomica  in  that  beverage,  and  as  the  Lord  made  it,  it 
would  keep.  He  makes  mountains  and  seas  that  keep  thousands  of 
yearst  and  certainly  he  could  make  a  beverage  that  would  keep  four  or 
five  ye.irs.  Among  t  :e  arts  and  inventions  jf  the  future,  I  hope  there 
will  be  one  by  which  the  juices  from  the  grape  can  be  so  pressed  and 
mingled  that,  without  one  drop  of  damning  alcohol,  they  will  keep  for 
years.  And  the  more  of  this  beverage  you  take  the  clearer  will  be 
the  brain  and  the  healthier  the  stomach.  In  my  recent  journey,  I 
traveled  through  Italy,  and  Greece,  and  Egypt,  and  Palestine,  and 
Syria,  and  Turkey,  and  how  many  intoxicated  people  do  you  think  I 
saw  in  all  these  five  great  realms  ?  Not  one !  We  must  in  our 
Christianized  lands  have  got  hold  of  some  kind  of  beverage  thar 
Christ  did  not  make. 

THE    LAKE    OF    GALILEE. 

But  we  must  hasten  on,  for  I  do  not  mean  to  close  my  eyes  to- 
night till  I  see  from  a  mountain-top  Lake  Galilee,  on  whose  banks 
next  Sabbath  we  will  worship,  and  on  whose  waters  the  following 
morning  we  will  take  a  sail.  On  and  up  we  go  in  the  severest  climb 
of  all  Palestine,  the  ascent  of  the  Mount  of  Beatitudes,  on  the  top  of 
which  Christ  preached  that  famous  sermon  on  the  blessed — blessed 
this  and  blessed  that.  Up  to  their  knees  the  horses  plunge  in  mole- 
hills and  a  surface  that  gives  way  at  the  first  touch  of  the  hoof,  an  I 
again  and  again  the  tired  beasts  halt,  as  much  as  to  say  to  the  riders, 
"  It  is  unjust  for  you  to  make  us  climb  these  steeps."  On  and  up  over 
rrjountain  sides,  where  in  the  later  season  hyacinths  and  daisies  and 
phloxes  and  anemones  will  kindle  their  beauty.  On  and  up  until  on 
the  rocks  of  black  basalt  we  dismount,  and,  climbing  to  the  highest 
peak,  look  out  on  an  enchantment  of  scenery  that  seems  to  be  the 
beatitudes  themselves  arched  into  skies,  and  rounded  into  valleys,  and 
silvered  into  waves. 


JT«  AMONG  THE  HOL  Y  HILLS. 

The  view  is  like  that  of  Tennessee  and  North  Carolina  from  the 
top  of  Lookout  mountain,  or  like  that  of  Vermont  and  New  Hamp- 
shire from  the  top  of  Mount  Washington.  Hail,  hills  of  Galilee  i 
Hail,  Lake  Gennesaret,  only  four  miles  away  !  Yonder,  clear  up  and 
most  conspicuous,  is  Safed,  the  very  city  to  which  Christ  pointed  for 
illustration  in  the  sermon  preached  here,  saying,  "  A  city  set  on  a  hill 
cannot  be  hid."  There  are  rocks  around  me  on  this  Mount  of  Beati- 
tudes enough  to  build  the  highest  pulpit  the  world  ever  saw.  And  it 
is  the  highest  pulpit.  It  overlooks  all  time  and  all  eternity.  The  val- 
ley of  Hattin,  between  here  and  Lake  Galilee,  is  an  amphitheatre,  as 
though  the  natural  contour  of  the  earth  had  invited  all  nations  to  come 
and  sit  down  and  hear  Christ  preach  a  sermon,  in  which  there  were 
more  startling  novelties  than  were  ever  announced  in  all  the  sermons 
that  were  ever  preached. 

Do  you  see  how  the  Holy  Land  and  the  Holy  Book  fit  each  other  ? 
God  with  his  left  hand  built  Palestine,  and  with  his  right  wrote  the 
Scriptures,  the  two  hands  of  the  same  being  ;  and  in  proportion  as 
Palestine  is  brought  under  close  inspection,  the  Bible  will  be  found 
more  glorious  and  more  true.  Mightiest  book  of  the  past !  Mightiest 
book  of  the  future  !  Monarch  of  all  literature  ! 

The  proudest  works  of  genius  shall  decay, 
And  reason's  brightest  luster  fade  away. 
The  sophist's  art,  the  poet's  boldest  flight, 
Shall  sink  in  darkness  and  conclude  in  night. 
But  faith  triumphant  over  time  shall  stand, 
Shall  grasp  the  sacred  volume  in  her  hand, 
Back  to  its  source  the  heavenly  gift  convey. 
Then  in  the  flood  of  glory  melt  away. 


NO   NIGHT   SO    DARK,    NO   DAY   SO    DREAR, 
BUT  WE  MAY  SING  OUR  SONG  OF  CHEER." 


377 


"WORK   MORN   AND   EVE   AND   THROUGH   THE   SULTRY   NOON, 

AND   SONGS   OF  JOV   WILL   HAIL   THE   HARVEST   MOON." 
378 


WHAT  TEARS  ARE  FOR 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


RIDING  across  a  western  prairie,  with  wild  flowers  up  to  the  hub  of 
the  carriage  wheel,  and  while  a  long  distance  from  any  shelter, 
there  came  a  sudden  shower ;  and  while  the  rain  was  failing  ;n 
itjrrents  the  sun  was  shining  as  brightly  as  I  ever  saw  it  shine,  arid  I 
thought  what  a  beautiful  spectacle  it  was.  So  the  tears  of  the  Bible  are 
not  midnight  storm,  but  rain  on  pansied  prairie  in  God's  sweet  and 
golden  sunlight.  You  remember  that  bottle  which  David  labeled  as 
containing  tears  ;  and  Mary's  tears,  and  Paul's  tears,  and  Christ's  tears, 
and  the  harvest  of  joy  that  is  to  spring  from  the  sowing  of  tears.  God 
mixes  them.  God  rounds  them.  God  shows  them  where  to  fall.  God 
exhales  them.  A  census  is  taken  of  them,  and  there  is  a  record  as  to 
the  moment  when  they  are  born,  and  as  to  the  place  of  their  grave. 
Tears  of  bad  men  are  not  kept.  Alexander,  in  his  sorrow,  had  the 
hair  clipped  from  his  horses  and  mules,  and  made  a  great  ado  about 
his  grief;  but  in  all  the  vases  of  heaven  there  is  not  one  of  Alexander's 
tears.  I  speak  of  the  tears  of  the  good.  Alas !  they  are  falling  all 
the  time.  In  summer,  you  sometimes  hear  the  growling  thunder,  and 
you  see  there  is  a  storm  miles  away ;  but  you  know  from  the  drift  of 
the  clouds  that  it  will  not  come  anywhere  near  you.  So,  though  it 
may  be  all  bright  around  us,  there  is  a  shower  of  trouble  somewhere 
all  the  time.  Tears  !  tears  ! 

MISSION    OF    TEARS. 

What  is  the  use  of  tears?  Why  not  substitute  laughter  ?  Why 
not  make  this  a  world  where  all  the  people  are  well  and  eternal 
strangers  to  pains  and  aches  ?  What  is  the  use  of  an  eastern  storm 
when  we  might  have  a  perpetual  nor* wester  ?  Why,  when  a  family  is 
put  together,  not  have  them  all  stay,  or  if  they  must  be  transplanted 

379 


*8o  WHAT  TEARS  ARE  FOR. 

to  make  other  homes,  then  have  them  all  live — the  family  record  tell 
ing  a  story  of  marriages  and  births,  but  of  no  deaths  ?  Why  not 
have  the  harvests  chase  each  other  without  fatiguing  toil  ?  Why  the 
hard  pillow,  the  hard  crust,  the  hard  struggle  ?  It  is  easy  enough  to 
explain  a  smile,  or  a  success,  or  a  congratulation  ;  but  come  now,  and 
bring  all  your  dictionaries  and  all  your  philosophies  and  all  your  relig- 
ions, and  help  me  explain  a  tear.  A  chemist  will  t.V.l  you  that  it  is 
•  made  up  of  salt  and  lime  and  other  component  parts  ;  but  he  misses 
the  chief  ingredients — the  acid  of  a  soured  life,  the  viperine  sting  of  a 
bitter  memory,  the  fragments  of  a  broken  heart.  I  will  tell  you  what 
a  tear  is  :  it  is  agony  in  solution. 

If  it  were  not  for  trouble  this  world  would  be  a  good  enough  heaven 
for  me.  You  and  I  would  be  willing  to  take  a  lease  of  this  life  for  a 
hundred  million  years,  if  there  were  no  trouble.  The  earth  cushioned 
and  upholstered  and  pillared  and  chandeliered  with  such  expense,  no 
story  of  other  worlds  could  enchant  us.  We  would  say  :  "Let  well 
enough  alone.  If  you  want  to  die  and  have  your  body  disintegrated 
in  the  dust,  and  your  soul  go  out  on  a  celestial  adventure,  then  you 
can  go  ;  but  this  world  is  good  enough  for  me."  You  might  as  well 
go  to  a  man  who  has  just  entered  the  Louvre  at  Paris,  and  tell  him 
to  hasten  off  to  the  picture-galleries  of  Venice  or  Florence.  "Why." 
he  would  say,  "what  is  the  use  of  my  going  there  ?  There  are  Rem- 
brandts  and  Rubens  and  Raphaels  here  that  I  haven't  looked  at  yet." 

No  man  wants  to  go  out  of  this  world,  or  out  of  any  house,  until 
he  has  a  better  one.  To  cure  this  wish  to  stay  here,  God  must  some- 
how create  a  disgust  for  our  surroundings.  How  shall  He  do  it?  He 
cannot  afford  to  deface  his  horizon,  or  to  tear  off  a  fiery  panel  from  the 
sunset,  or  to  subtract  an  anther  from  the  water-lily,  or  to  banish  the 
pungent  aroma  from  the  mignonette,  or  to  drag  the  robes  of  the  morn- 
ing in  the  mire.  You  cannot  expect  a  Christopher  Wren  to  mar  his 
own  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  or  a  Michael  Angelo  to  dash  out  his  own 
"Last  Judgment,"  or  a  Handel  to  discord  his  "Israel  in  Egypt,"  and 
you  cannot  expect  God  to  spoil  the  architecture  and  music  of  his  own 
world.  How  then  are  we  to  be  made  willing  to  leave  ?  Here  is  where 
trouble  comes  in.  After  a  man  has  had  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  he 
says  :  "Well,  I  am  ready  to  go.  If  there  is  a  house  somewhere  whose 
roof  doesn't  leak,  I  would  like  to  live  there.  If  there  is  an  atmos- 
phere somewhere  that  does  not  distress  the  lungs,  I  would  like  to 


FLOWERS  FOR  THE  SICK 


382  WHAT  TEARS  ARE  FOR. 

breathe  it.  If  there  is  a  society  somewhere  where  there  is  no  tittle- 
tattle,  I  would  like  to  live  there.  If  there  is  a  home  circle  somewhere 
where  I  can  find  my  lost  friends,  I  would  like  to  go  there."  He  used 
to  read  the  first  part  of  the  Bible  chiefly,  now  he  reads  the  last  part  of 
the  Bible  chiefly.  Why  has  he  changed  Genesis  for  Revelation  ?  Ah  ! 
he  used  to  be  anxious  chiefly  to  know  how  this  world  was  made,  and 
all  about  its  geological  construction.  Now  he  is  chiefly  anxious  to 
know  how  the  next  world  was  made,  and  how  it  looks,  and  who  live 
there,  and  how  they  dress.  He  reads  Revelation  ten  times  now 
where  he  reads  Genesis  once.  The  old  story,  "In  the  beginning,  God 
created  the  heavens  and  the  earth,"  does  not  thrill  him  half  so  much 
as  the  other  story,  "I  saw  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth."  The  old 
man's  hand  trembles  as  he  turns  over  this  apocalyptic  leaf,  and  he  has 
to  take  out  his  handkerchief  to  wipe  his  spectacles.  That  book  of 
Revelation  is  a  prospectus  now  of  the  country  into  which  he  is  soon  to 
immigrate — the  country  in  which  he  has  lots  already  laid  out,  and 
avenues  opened,  and  trees  planted,  and  mansions  built. 

A    MIGHTY    MAGNETISM. 

The  thought  of  that  blessed  place  comes  over  me  mightily,  and  I 
declare  that  if  this  house  were  a  great  ship,  and  you  all  were  passen- 
gers on  board  it,  and  one  hand  could  launch  that  ship  into  the  glories 
of  heaven,  I  should  be  tempted  to  take  the  responsibility  and  launch 
you  all  into  glory  with  ,  one  stroke,  holding  on  to  the  side  of  the  boat 
until  I  could  get  in  myself.  And  yet  there  are  people  to  whom  this 
world  is  brighter  than  heaven.  Well,  dear  souls,  I  do  not  blame  you. 
It  is  natural.  But  after  a  while  you  will  be  ready  to  go.  It  was  not 
until  Job  had  been  worn  out  with  bereavements  and  carbuncles  and  a 
pest  of  a  wife,  that  he  wanted  to  see  God.  It  was  not  until  the  prodi- 
gal got  tired  of  living  among  the  hogs  that  he  wanted  to  go  to  his 
father's  house.  It  is  the  ministry  of  trouble  to  make  this  world  worth 
less  and  heaven  worth  more. 

Once,  on  the  Cincinnati  express  train,  going  at  forty  miles  an 
hour,  the  train  jumped  the  track.  We  were  near  a  chasm  eighty  feet 
deep ;  and  the  men  who  a  few  minutes  before  had  been  swearing  and 
blaspheming  God,  began  to  pull  and  jerk  at  the  bell-rope,  and  got  up 
on  the  backs  of  the  seats  and  cried  out,  "O  God,  save  us  !"  There 
was  another  time,  about  eight  hundred  miles  out  at  sea,  on  a 


WHA  T  TEARS  ARE  FOR.  383 

foundering  steamer,  after  the  last  lifeboat  had  been  split  finer  than 
kindling  wood.  They  prayed  then.  Why  is  it  you  so  often  hear 
people,  in  reciting  the  last  experience  of  some  friend,  say,  "He 
made  the  most  beautiful  prayer  I  ever  heard  "  ?  What  makes  it  beau- 
tiful ?  It  is  the  earnestness  of  it.  Oh,  I  tell  you  a  man  is  in  earnest 
when  his  stripped  and  naked  soul  wades  out  into  the  soundless,  shore- 
'ess,  bottomless  ocean  of  eternity. 

It  is  trouble,  my  friends,  that  makes  us  feel  our  dependence  upon 
God.  We  do  not  know  our  own  weakness  or  God's  strength  until 

o 

the  last  plank  breaks.  It  is  contemptible  in  us,  when  there  is  nothing 
else  to  take  hold  of,  that  we  catch  hold  of  God  only.  A  man  is  unfortu- 
nate in  business.  He  has  to  raise  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  raise  it 
quickly.  He  borrows  on  word  and  note  all  he  can  borrow.  After  a 
while  he  puts  a  mortgage  on  his  house.  After  a  while  he  puts  a 
second  mortgage  on  his  house.  Then  he  puts  a  lien  on  his 
furniture.  Then  he  makes  over  his  life-insurance.  Then  he  assigns 
all  his  property.  Then  he  goes  to  his  father-in-law  and  asks  for  help  ! 

THE    LAST    RESORT. 

Well,  having  failed  everywhere,  completely  failed,  that  man  gets 
down  on  his  knees  and  says,  "  O  Lord,  I  have  tried  everybody  and 
everything,  now  help  me  out  of  this  financial  trouble."  He  makes 
God  the  last  resort  instead  of  the  first  resort.  There  are  men  who 
have  paid  ten  cents  on  a  dollar  who  could  have  paid  'a  hundred  cents 
on  a  dollar  if  they  had  gone  to  God  in  time.  Why,  you  do  not  know 
who  the  Lord  is.  He  is  not  an  autocrat  seated  far  up  in  a  palace,  from 
which  he  emerges  once  a  year,  preceded  by  heralds  swinging  swords 
to  clear  the  way  !  No.  But  a  Father  willing,  at  our  call,  to  stand  by 
us  in  every  crisis  and  predicament  of  life. 

A  young  man  goes  off  from  home  to  earn  his  fortune.  He  goes 
with  his  mother's  consent  and  benediction.  She  has  large  wealth,  but 
he  wants  to  make  his  own  fortune.  He  goes  far  away,  falls  sick,  gets 
out  of  money.  He  sends  for  the  hotel-keeper  where  he  is  staying, 
asking  for  lenience,  and  the  answer  he  gets  is  :  "If  you  don't  pay  up 
Saturday  night  you'll  be  removed  to  the  hospital."  The  young  man 
sends  for  a  comrade  in  the  same  building.  No  help.  He  writes  to  a 
banker  who  was  a  friend  to  his  deceased  father.  No  relief.  He 
tvrites  to  an  old  schoolmate,  but  gets  no  help.  Saturday  night  comes 


384  WHAT  TEARS  ARE  FOR. 

and  he  is  removed  to  the  hospital.  Getting  there,  he  is  frenzied  with 
grief;  and  he  borrows  a  sheet  of  paper  and  a  postage  stamp,  and  he 
sits  down,  and  he  writes  home,  saying  :  "  Dear  mother,  I  am  sick  unto 
death.  Come."  It  is  ten  minutes  of  ten  o'clock  when  she  gets  the 
letter.  At  ten  o'clock  the  train  starts.  She  is  five  minutes  from  the 
depot.  She  gets  there  in  time  to  have  five  minutes  to  spare.  She 
wonders  why  a  train  that  can  go  thirty  miles  an  hour  cannot  go  sixty 
miles  an  hour.  She  rushes  into  the  hospital.  She  says:  "My  son, 
what  does  all  this  mean  ?  Why  didn't  you  send  for  me?  You  sent 
to  everybody  but  me.  You  knew  I  could  and  would  help  you.  Is  this 
the  reward  I  get  for  my  kindness  to  you  always  ?  "  She  bundles  him 
up,  takes  him  home,  and  gets  him  well  very  soon. 

Many  business  men  treat  God  just  as  that  young  man  treated 
his  mother.  When  they  get  into  a  financial  perplexity,  they  call  on 
the  banker,  call  on  the  broker,  call  on  their  creditors,  call  on  their 
lawyer  for  legal  counsel ;  they  call  upon  everybody,  and  when  they 
cannot  get  any  help,  then  they  go  to  God,  and  say :  "  O  Lord,  I  come 
to  Thee.  Help  me  now  out  of  my  perplexity."  And  the  Lord  comes, 
though  it  is  the  eleventh  hour.  He  says  :  "  Why  did  you  not  send  for 
Me  before?  As  one  whom  his  mother  comforteth,  so  will  I  comfort 
you."  It  is  to  throw  us  back  upon  an  all-comforting  God  that  we  have 
this  ministry  of  tears. 

POETRY    CHANGED    TO    PROSE. 

When  I  began  to  preach,  my  sermons  on  the  subject  of  trouble 
were  all  poetic  and  in  semi-blank  verse  ;  but  God  knocked  the  blank 
verse  out  of  me  long  ago,  and  I  have  found  out  that  I  cannot  comfort 
people  except  as  I  myself  have  been  troubled.  God  make  me  the  son 
of  consolation  to  the  people.  I  would  rather  be  the  means  of  sooth- 
ing one  perturbed  spirit  than  to  play  a  tune  that  would  set  all  the  sons 
of  mirth  reeling  in  the  dance.  I  am  an  herb-doctor.  I  put  into  the 
caldron  the  Root  out  of  dry  ground  without  form  or  comeliness.  Then 
I  put  in  the  Rose  of  Sharon,  and  the  Lily  of  the  Valley.  Then  I  put 
into  the  caldron  some  of  the  leaves  from  the  Tree  of  Life,  and  the 
Branch  that  was  thrown  into  the  wilderness  Marah.  Then  I  pour  in 
the  tears  of  Bethany  and  Golgotha,  and  stir  them  up.  Then  I  kindle 
under  the  caldron  a  fire  made  of  the  wood  of  the  cross,  and  one  drop 
of  that  potion  will  cure  the  worst  sickness  that  ever  afflicted  a  human 


THE   SOLITARY   PLACES   MADE   GLAD. 


385 


IJOP  8aT»  fieard, 
ittier  fiaVe  entered 


fiatfiprepared 
for  tfiem, 

tftat 
fove 


386 


THE  JOYS  THAT  ARE   UNSEEN 


WHA  T  TEARS  ARE  FOR.  387 

soul.  Mary  and  Martha  shall  receive  their  Lazarus  from  the  tomb. 
The  damsel  shall  rise.  And  on  the  darkness  shall  break  the  morning, 
and  God  will  wipe  all  tears  from  their  eyes. 

You  know  that  on  a  well-spread  table  the  food  becomes  more 
delicate  at  the  last.  Let  the  table  now  be  cleared,  and  let  us  set  on 
the  chalice  of  heaven.  Let  the  King's  cup-bearers  come  in.  Good 
morning,  heaven!  "Oh,"  says  some  critic  in  the  audience,  "the 
Bible  contradicts  itself.  It  intimates  again  and  again  that  there  are  to 
be  no  tears  in  heaven,  and  if  there  be  no  tears  in  heaven,  how  is  it 
possible  that  God  will  wipe  any  away?"  I  answer,  have  you  never 
seen  a  child  crying  one  moment  and  laughing  the  next?  While  she 
was  laughing,  you  saw  the  tears  still  on  her  face.  And  perhaps  you 
stopped  her  in  the  very  midst  of  her  resumed  glee,  and  wiped  off  those 
delayed  tears.  So,  I  think,  after  the  heavenly  raptures  have  come 
upon  us,  there  may  be  the  mark  of  some  earthly  grief,  and  while 
those  tears  are  glittering  in  the  light  of  the  jasper  sea,  God  will  wipe 
them  away.  How  well  He  can  do  that ! 

THE    GREAT   SYMPATHIZER. 

Jesus  had  enough  trial  to  make  Him  sympathetic  with  all  trial. 
The  shortest  verse  in  the  Bible  tells  the  story:  "Jesus  wept."  The 
scar  on  the  back  of  either  hand,  the  scar  on  the  arch  of  either  foot, 
the  row  of  scars  along  the  line  of  the  hair,  will  keep  all  heaven  think- 
ing. Oh,  that  great  weeper  is  just  the  one  to  silence  all  earthly 
trouble,  wipe  out  all  stains  of  earthly  grief.  Gentle  !  Why,  his  step 
is  softer  than  the  step  of  the  dew.  It  will  not  be  a  tyrant  bidding  you 
to  hush  up  your  crying.  It  will  be  a  Father  who  will  take  you  on  his 
left  arm,  his  face  gleaming  into  yours,  while  with  the  soft  tips  of  the 
fingers  of  the  right  hand  he  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  your  eyes. 
I  have  noticed  that  when  the  children  get  hurt,  and  their  mother  is 
away  from  home,  they  come  to  me  for  comfort  and  sympathy ;  but  I 
have  noticed  that  when  the  children  get  hurt  and  their  mother  is  at 
home,  they  go  right  past  me  to  her — I  am  then  of  no  account. 

So,  when  the  soul  comes  up  into  heaven  out  of  the  wounds  of  this 
life,  it  will  not  stop  to  look  for  Paul,  or  Moses,  or  David,  or  John. 
These  did  very  well  once,  but  now  the  soul  will  rush  past  them,  crying : 
"Where  is  Jesus?  Where  is  Jesus  ?"  Methinks  it  will  take  us  some 
time  to  get  used  to  heaven ;  the  fruits  of  God  without  one  speck  ;  the 


388  WHA  T  TEARS  ARE  FOR. 

fresh  pastures  without  one  nettle  ;  the  orchestra  without  one  snapped 
string ;  the  river  of  gladness  without  one  torn  bank  ;  the  solferinos  and 
the  saffron  of  sunrise  and  sunset  swallowed  up  in  the  eternal  day  that 
beams  from  God's  countenance  ! 

If  we  could  get  any  appreciation  of  what  God  has  in  reserve  for 
us,  it  would  make  us  so  homesick  we  would  be  unfit  for  every-day 
work.  Professor  Leonard,  formerly  of  Iowa  University,  put  in  my 
hand  a  meteoric  stone,  a  stone  thrown  off  from  some  other  world  to  this. 
How  suggestive  it  was  to  me  !  The  best  representations  we  have  of 
heaven  are  only  aerolites  flung  off  from  that  world  which  rolls  on, 
bearing  the  multitudes  of  the  redeemed.  We  analyze  these  aerolites 
and  find  them  crystallizations  of  tears.  No  wonder — flung  off  from 
heaven  !  "  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes." 


FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


AT  the  time  our  Chieftain  was  born,  there  were  castles  on  the 
beach  of  Galilee,  and  palaces  at  Jerusalem,  and  imperial  bath- 
rooms at  Jericho,  and  obelisks  at  Cairo,  and  the  Pantheon  at 
Rome,  with  its  Corinthian  portico  and  its  sixteen  granite  columns; 
and  the  Parthenon  at  Athens,  with  its  glistening  coronet  of  temples  ; 
and  there  were  mountains  of  fine  architecture  in  many  parts  of  the 
world.  But  none  of  them  were  to  be  the  starting  place  of  the  Chief 
tain  I  celebrate. 

A  cow's  stall,  a  winter  month,  an  atmosphere  in  which  are  the 
moan  of  camels,  and  the  baaing  of  sheep,  and  the  barking  of  dogs, 
and  the  rough  banter  of  hostelries.  He  takes  his  first  journey  before: 
he  could  walk.  Armed  desperadoes  with  hands  of  blood  were  ready 
to  snatch  him  down  into  butchery.  Rev.  William  H.  Thompson,  the 
veteran  and  beloved  missionary  whom  I  saw  this  last  month  in  Denver, 
in  his  eighty-sixth  year,  has  described  in  his  volume  entitled,  "  The. 
Land  and  the  Book,"  Bethlehem  as  he  saw  it.  Winter  before  last  I 
walked  up  and  down  the  gray  hills  of  Jura  limestone  on  which  the 
village  now  rests. 

The  fact  that  King  David  had  been  born  there  had  not  during 
ages  elevated  the  village  into  any  special  attention.  The  other  fact 
that  it  was  the  birthplace  of  our  Chieftain  did  not  keep  the  place  in 
after  years  from  special  dishonor,  for  Hadrian  built  there  the  Grove 
of  Adonis,  and  for  one  hundred  and  eighty  years  the  religion  there 
observed  was  the  most  abhorrent  debauchery  the  world  has  ever  seen. 
Our  Chieftain  was  considered  dangerous  from  the  start.  The  world 
had  put  suspicious  eyes  upon  Him,  because  at  the  time  of  his  birth  the 
astrologers  had  seen  the  stellar  commotions,  a  world  out  of  its  place 
and  shooting  down  toward  a  caravansary.  Star  divination  was  a 
(389) 


39<> 


FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN. 


science.  As  late  as  the  eighteenth  century  it  had  its  votaries.  At  the 
court  of  Catharine  de  Medici  it  was  honored.  Kepler,  one  of  the 
wisest  philosophers  that  the  world  ever  saw,  declared  it  to  be  a  true 
science. 

As  late  as  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  Lilly,  an  astrologer,  was  called 
before  the  House  of  Commons  in  England  to  give  his  opinion  as  to 
future  events.  For  ages  the  bright  appearance  of  Mars  meant  war  ; 
of  Jupiter,  meant  power  ;  of  the  Pleiades,  meant  storms  at  sea.  And 
as  history  moves  in  circles,  I  do  not  know  but  that  after  a  while  it  may 


TWO    PAGES    OF    AN    ANCIENT    SCROLL    OF    SCRIPTURES 

be  found  that  as  the  moon  lifts  the  tides  of  the  sea  and  the  sun  affects 
the  growth  or  blasting  of  crops,  other  worlds  besides  those  two  worlds 
may  have  something  to  do  with  the  destiny  of  individuals  and  nations 
in  this  world. 

THE   CHILDHOOD    OF    CHRIST. 

I  do  not  wonder  that  the  commotions  in  the  heavens  excited  the 
wise  men  on  the  night  our  Chieftain  was   born.     As   He  came  from 


FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN. 


391 


another  world,  and  after  thirty-three  years  was  again  to  exchange 
worlds,  it  does  not  seem  strange  to  me  that  astronomy  should  have 
felt  the  effect  of  his  coming.  And  instead  of  being  unbelieving  about 
the  one  star  that  stooped,  I  wonder  that  all  the  worlds  in  the  heavens 
did  not  that  Christmas  night  make  some  special  demonstration.  Why 
should  they  leave  to  one  world  or  meteor  the  bearing  of  the  news  of 
the  humanization  of  Christ  ?  Where  was  Mars  that  night  that  it  did 
not  indicate  the  mighty  wars  that  were  to  come  between  righteousness 


JESUS    BLESSING   LITTLE   CHILDREN 

and  iniquity?  Where  was  Jupiter  that  night  that  it  did  not  celebrate 
Omnipotence  incarnated  ?  Where  were  the  Pleiades  that  night  that 
they  did  not  announce  the  storms  of  persecution  that  would  assail  our 
Chieftain  ? 

In  watching  this  march  of  Christ  through  the  centuries,  we  must 
not  walk  before  Him  or  beside  Him,  for  that  would  not  be  reverential 
or  worshipful.  So  we  walk  behind  Him.  We  follow  Him  while  not 
yet  in  his  teens,  up  a  Jerusalem  terrace,  to  a  building  six  hundred  feet 
long  and  six  hundred  feet  wide,  and  under  the  hovering  splendor  of 


392  FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN. 

gateways,  and  by  a  pillar  crowned  with  capital  chiseled  into  the  shape 
of  flowers  and  leaves,  and  along  by  walls  of  beveled  masonry  and 
near  a  marble  screen,  until  a  group  of  white-haired  philosophers  and 
theologians  gather  around  Him,  and  then  the  boy  bewilders  and  con- 
founds and  overwhelms  these  scholarly  septuagenarians  with  questions 
they  cannot  answer,  and  under  his  quick  whys  and  wherefores  and 
hows  and  whens  they  pull  their  white  beards  with  embarrassment,  and 
rub  their  wrinkled  foreheads  in  confusion,  and  putting  their  staff  hard 
down  on  the  marble  floor  as  they  arise  to  go,  they  must  feel  like 
chiding  the  boldness  that  allows  twelve  years  of  age  to  ask  seventy- 
five  years  of  age  such  puzzlers. 

TEMPTATION    AND   TRIUMPH. 

Out  of  this  building  we  follow  Him  into  the  Quarantania,  the  moun- 
tain of  temptation,  its  side  to  this  day  black  with  robbers'  dens.  Look  ! 
Up  the  side  of  this  mountain  come  all  the  forces  of  perdition  to  effect 
our  Chieftain's  capture.  But  although  weakened  by  forty  days  and 
forty  nights  of  abstinence,  He  hurls  all  Pandemonium  down  the 
rocks,  suggestive  of  how  He  can  hurl  into  helplessness  all  our  tempta- 
tions. 

And  now  we  climb  right  after  Him  up  the  tough  sides  of  the 
"Mount  of  Beatitudes,"  and  on  the  highest  pulpit  of  rocks — the  Valley 
of  Hatin  before  Him,  the  Lake  of  Galilee  to  the  right  of  Him,  the 
Mediterranean  sea  to  the  left  of  Him — He  preaches  a  sermon  thai, 
yet  will  transform  the  world  with  its  applied  sentiment.  Now 
we  follow  our  Chieftain  on  Lake  Galilee.  We  must  keep  to  the 
beach,  for  our  feet  are  not  shod  with  the  supernatural,  and  we 
remember  what  poor  work  Peter  made  of  it  when  he  tried  to  walk 
the  water. 

Christ,  our  leader,  is  on  the  top  of  the  tossing  waves,  and  it  is 
about  half-past  three  in  the  morning,  and  it  is  the  darkest  time  just 
before  daybreak.  But  by  the  flashes  of  lightning  we  see  Him  putting 
his  feet  on  the  crest  of  the  wave,  stepping  from  crest  to  crest,  walking 
the  white  surf,  solid  as  though  it  were  frozen  snow.  The  sailors  think 

o 

a  ghost  is  striding  the  tempest,  but  He  cheers  them  into  placidity,  show- 
ing himself  to  be  a  great  Christ  for  sailors.  And  He  walks  the  Atlantic 
and  Pacific  and  Mediterranean  and  Adriatic  now,  and  if  exhausted  and 
affrighted  voyagers  will  listen  for  his  voice  at  half-past  three  o'clock  in 


FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN.  393 

the    morning  on  any  sea,  indeed  at  any  hour,  they  will   hear  his  voice 
of  compassion  and  encouragement. 


t> 

CHRIST   THE    HEALER. 


We  continue  to  follow  our  Chieftain,  and  here  is  a  blind  man  by 
the  wayside.  It  is  not  from  cataract  of  the  eye  or  from  ophthalmia, 
the  eye-extinguisher  of  the  east,  but  he  was  born  blind.  "  Be 
opened  !  "  He  cries,  and  first  there  is  a  smarting  of  the  eyelids,  and 
then  a  twilight,  and  then  a  midnoon,  and  then  a  shout.  "  I  see  !  I 
see  !  "  Tell  it  to  all  the  blind,  and  they  at  least  can  appreciate  it.  And 
here  is  the  widow's  dead  son,  and  here  is  the  expired  damsel,  and  here 
is  Lazarus  !  "  Live  !  "  our  Chieftain  cries,  and  they  live.  Tell  it 
through  all  the  bereft  households  ;  tell  it  among  the  graves. 

And  here  around  Him  gather  the  deaf,  and  the  dumb,  and  the 
sick,  and  at  his  word  they  turn  on  their  couches  and  blush  from  awful 
pallor  of  helpless  illness  to  rubicund  health,  and  the  swollen  foot  of 
the  dropsical  sufferer  becomes  fleet  as  a  roe  on  the  mountains.  The 
music  of  the  grove  and  household  wakens  the  deaf  ear,  and  lunatic 
and  maniac  return  into  bright  intelligence,  and  the  leper's  breath  be- 
comes as  sweet  as  the  breath  of  a  child,  and  the  flesh  as  roseate.  Tell 
it  to  all  the  sick,  through  all  the  homes,  through  all  the  hospitals. 
Tell  it  at  twelve  o'clock  at  night ;  tell  it  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning ; 
tell  it  at  half-past  three,  and  in  the  last  watch  of  the  night,  that  Jesus 
walks  the  tempest. 

Still  we  follow  our  Chieftain  until  the  government  that  gave  Him. 
no  protection  insists  that  He  pay  tax,  and  too  poor  to  raise  the  requi- 
site two  dollars  and  seventy-five  cents,  He  orders  Peter  to  catch  a  fish 
that  has  in  its  mouth  a  Roman  stater,  which  is  a  brigJ~  '•  coin  (and  you 
know  that  fish  naturally  bite  at  anything  bright),  but  it  was  a  miracle 
that  Peter  should  have  caught  it  at  the  first  haul. 

THE  BETRAYAL. 

Now  we  follow  our  Chieftain  until  for  the  paltry  sum  of  fifteen 
dollars  Judas  sells  Him  to  his  pursuers.  Tell  it  to  all  the  betrayed  ! 
If  for  ten  thousand  dollars,  or  for  five  hundred  dollars,  or  for  one 
hundred  dollars,  your  interests  were  sold  out,  consider  for  how  much 
cheaper  a  sum  the  Lord  of  earth  and  heaven  was  surrendered  to  hu- 
miliation and  death.  But  here,  while  following  him  on  a  spring  nignt, 


594  FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN. 

between  eleven  and  twelve  o'clock,  we  see  the  flash  of  torches  and 
lanterns,  and  we  hear  the  cry  of  a  mob  of  nihilists.  They  are  break- 
ing in  on  the  quietude  of  Gethsemane  with  clubs — like  a  mob  with 
sticks  chasing  a  mad  dog. 

It  is  a  herd  of  Jerusalem  "roughs,"  led  on  by  Judas,  to  arrest 
Christ  and  punish  him  for  being  the  loveliest  and  best  being  that  ever 
lived.  But  rioters  are  liable  to  assail  the  wrong  man.  How  were  they 
to  be  sure  which  one  was  Jesus  ?  "I  will  kiss  him,"  says  Judas,  "and 
by  that  signal  you  will  know  on  whom  to  lay  your  hands  of  arrest." 
So  the  kiss  which  throughout  the  human  race  and  for  all  time  God  in- 
tended as  the  most  sacred  demonstration  of  affection — for  Paul  writes 
to  the  Romans  and  the  Corinthians  and  the  Thessalonians  concerning 
the  "holy  kiss,"  and  Peter  celebrates  the  kiss  of  charity,  and  with 
that  conjunction  of  lips  Laban  met  Jacob,  and  Joseph  met  his  brethren, 
and  Aaron  met  Moses,  and  Samuel  met  Saul,  and  Jonathan  met 
David,  and  Orpah  departed  from  Naomi,  and  Paul  separated  from  his 
friends  at  Ephesus,  and  the  father  in  the  parable  greeted  the  returning 
prodigal,  and  when  the  millennium  shall  come  we  are  told  righteous- 
ness and  peace  will  kiss  each  other,  and  all  the  world  is  invited  to 
greet  Christ  as  inspiration  cries  out,  "Kiss  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry 
and  ye  perish  from  the  way" — that  most  sacred  demonstration  of  re- 
union and  affection  was  desecrated  as  the  filthy  lips  of  Judas  touched 
the  pure  cheek  of  Christ,  and  the  horrid  smack  of  that  kiss  has  its 
echo  in  the  treachery  and  debasement  and  hypocrisy  of  all  ages. 

TRIAL  AND   SENTENCE. 

As,  in  December,  1889,  I  walked  on  the  way  from  Bethany,  and 
at  the  foot  of  Mount  Olivet,  a  half  mile  from  the  wall  of  Jerusalem, 
through  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane,  and  under  the  eight  venerable 
olive  trees  now  standing,  their  pomological  ancestors  having  been  wit- 
nesses of  the  occurrences  spoken  of,  the  scene  of  horror  and  of  crime 
came  back  to  me  until  I  shuddered  with  the  historical  reminiscence. 

In  further  following  our  great  Chieftain's  march  through  the  cen- 
turies, I  find  myself  in  a  crowd  in  front  of  Herod's  palace  in  Jerusa- 
lem, and  on  a  movable  platform  placed  upon  a  tessellated  pavement 
Pontius  Pilate  sits.  And  as  once  a  year  a  condemned  criminal  is  par- 
doned, Pilate  lets  the  people  choose  whether  it  shall  be  an  assassin  or 
our  Chieftain,  and  they  all  cry  out  for  the  liberation  of  the  assassin,  thus 


fROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN.  395 

declaring  that  they  prefer  a  murderer  to  the  salvation  of  the  world. 
Pilate  took  a  basin  of  water  in  front  of  these  people  and  tried  to  wash 


THE  GARDEN  OF  GKTHSEMANE. 

off  the  blood  of  this  murder  from  his  hands,  but  he  could  not.  They 
are  still  lifted,  and  I  see  them  looming  up  through  all  the  ages,  eight 
f,ngers  and  two  thumbs  standing  out  red  with  the  carnage. 


396  FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN. 

Still  following  our  Chieftain,  I  ascend  the  hill  which  General 
Gordon,  the  great  English  explorer  and  arbiter,  first  made  a  clay  model 
of.  It  is  hard  climbing  for  our  Chieftain,  for  He  has  not  only  two  heavy 
timbers  to  carry  on  his  back,  the  upright  and  horizontal  pieces  of  the 
cross,  but  He  is  suffering  from  exhaustion  caused  by  lack  of  food, 
mountain  chills,  desert  heats,  whippings  with  elmwood  rods,  and  years 
of  maltreatment. 

It  took  our  party,  in  1889,  only  fifteen  minutes  to  climb  to  the  top 
of  the  hill  and  reach  that  limestone  rock  in  yonder  wall,  which  I  rolled 
down  from  the  apex  of  Mount  Calvary.  But  I  think  our  Chieftain 
must  have  taken  a  long  time  for  the  ascent,  for  He  had  all  earth  and  all 
heaven  and  all  hell  on  his  back  as  He  climbed  from  base  to  summit,  and 
there  endured  what  William  Cowper  and  John  Milton  and  Charles 
Wesley  and  Isaac  Watts  and  James  Montgomery  and  all  the  other 
sacred  poets  have  attempted  to  put  in  verse  ;  and  Angelo  and  Raphael 
and  Titian  and  Leonardo  da  Vinci  and  all  the  great  Italian  and  German 
and  Spanish  and  French  artists  have  attempted  to  paint ;  and  Bossuei 
and  Massillon  and  George  Whitefield  and  Thomas  Chalmers  have 
attempted  to  preach. 

THE  CRUCIFIXION  AND  ASCENSION. 

Something  of  its  overwhelming  awfulness  you  may  estimate  from 
the  fact  that  the  sun  which  shines  in  the  heavens  could  not  endure  it ; 
the  sun  which  unflinchingly  looked  upon  the  deluge  that  drowned  the 
world,  which,  without  blinking,  looked  upon  the  ruins  of  earthquakes 
which  swallowed  Lisbon  and  Caraccas,  and  has  looked  unblanched  on 
the  battle-fields  of  Arbela,  Blenheim,  Megiddo  and  Esdraelon,  and  all 
the  scenes  of  carnage  that  have  ever  scalded  and  drenched  the  earth 
with  human  gore — that  sun  could  not  look  upon  the  scene.  The  sun 
dropped  over  its  face  a  veil  of  cloud.  It  withdrew.  It  hid  itself.  It 
said  to  the  midnight,  "  I  resign  to  thee  this  spectacle  upon  which  I  have 
no  strength  to  gaze  ;  thou  art  blind,  O  midnight !  and  for  that  reason 
I  commit  to  thee  this  tragedy  !  "  Then  the  night  hawk  and  the  bat  flew 
by,  and  the  jackal  howled  in  the  ravines. 

Now  we  follow  our  Chieftain  as  they  carry  his  limp  and  lacerated 
form  amid  the  flowers  and  trees  of  a  garden,  the  gladioluses,  the 
oleanders,  the  lilies,  the  geraniums,  the  mandrakes,  down  five  or  six 
steps  to  an  aisle  of  granite  where  he  sleeps.  But  only  a  little  while  He 


397 


FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN.  399 

sleeps  there,  for  there  is  an  earthquake  in  all  that  region,  leaving  the 
rocks  to  this  day  in  their  aslant  and  ruptured  state  declarative  of  the 
fact  that  something  extraordinary  there  happened.  And  we  see  our 
Chieftain  arouse  from  his  brief  slumber  and  wrestle  down  the  ruffian 
Death  who  would  keep  him  imprisoned  in  that  cavern,  and  put  both 
heels  on  the  monster,  and  coming  forth  with  a  cry  that  will  not  cease  to 
4be  echoed  until  on  the  great  resurrection  day  the  door  of  the  lost 
sepulcher  shall  be  unhinged  and  flung  clanging  into  the  debris  of 
demolished  cemeteries. 

Now  we  follow  our  Chieftain  to  the  shoulder  of  Mount  Olivet,  and 
without  wings  He  rises,  the  disciples  clutching  for  his  robes  too  late  to 
reach  them,  and  across  the  great  gulfs  of  space  with  one  bound  He  gains 
that  world  which  for  thirty-three  years  had  been  denied  his  companion- 
ship, and' all  heaven  lifts  a  shout  of  welcome  as  He  enters,  and  of  corona- 
tion as  up  to  the  mediatorial  throne  He  mounts.  It  was  the  greatest 
day  heaven  had  ever  seen.  They  had  him  back  again  from  tears,  from 
wounds,  from  ills,  from  a  world  that  never  appreciated  him  to  a  world 
in  which  He  was  the  chief  delight.  In  all  the  libretto  of  celestial  music 
it  was  hard  to  find  an  anthem  enough  conjubilant  to  celebrate  the  joy 
saintly,  seraphic,  archangelic,  deific. 

CHRIST'S  MARCH  THROUGH  THE  CENTURIES, 

But  still  we  follow  our  Chieftain  in  his  march  through  the  centuries, 
for  invisibly  He  still  walks  the  earth,  and  by  the  eye  of  faith  we  still 
follow  Him.  You  can  tell  where  He  walks  by  the  churches  and  hospitals 
and  reformatory  institutions  and  houses  of  mercy  that  spring1  up  along 
the  way.  I  hear  his  tread  in  the  sick-room  and  in  the  abodes  of  be- 
reavement. He  marches  on  and  the  nations  are  gathering  around  Him. 
The  islands  of  the  sea  are  hearing  his  voice.  The  continents  are 
feeling  his  power.  America  will  be  his.  Europe  will  be  his.  Asia  will 
be  his.  Africa  will  be  his.  Australia  will  be  his.  New  Zealand  will 
be  his.  All  the  earth  will  be  his  !  Do  you  realize  that  until  now  it 
was  impossible  for  the  world  to  be  converted  ?  Not  until  very  recently 
has  the  world  been  found.  The  Bible  talks  about  the  "ends  of  the 
earth"  and  the  "  uttermost  parts  of  the  world  "  as  being  saved,  but  not 
until  now  have  the  "ends  of  the  earth"  been  discovered,  and  not  until 
now  have  the  "  uttermost  parts  of  the  world  "  been  revealed 


406  FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN. 

The  navigator  did  his  work,  the  explorer  did  his  work,  the  scientist 
did  his  work,  and  now  for  the  first  time  since  the  world  has  been 
created  has  the  world  been  known,  measured  off,  and  geographized, 
the  lost,  hidden  and  unknown  tract  has  been  mapped  out,  and  now  the 
work  of  evangelization  will  be  begun  with  an  earnestness  and  velocity 
as  yet  unimagined.  The  steamships  are  ready,  the  lightning  express 
trains  are  ready,  the  printing-presses  are  ready,  the  telegraph  and 
telephone  are  ready,  millions  of  Christians  are  ready  and  now  see 
Christ  marching  on  through  the  centuries.  Marching  on  !  Marching  on  ! 

One  by  one,  governments  will  fall  into  line,  and  constitutions  and 
literatures  will  adore  his  name.  More  honored  and  worshiped  is  He  in 
this  year  of  1892  than  at  anytime  since  the  year  one,  and  the  day 
hastens  when  all  nations  will  join  one  procession  "following  the  Lamb 
whithersoever  he  goeth."  Marching  on,  marching  on  ! 

This  dear  old  world  whose  back  has  been  scourged,  whose  eyes 
hav*  been  blinded,  whose  heart  has  been  wrung,  will  yet  rival  heaven 
This  planet's  torn  robe  of  pain  and  crime  and  dementia  will  come  off, 
and  the  white  and  spotless  and  glittering  robe  of  holiness  and  happi- 
ness will  come  on.  *  The  last  wound  will  have  stung  for  the  last  time, 
the  last  grief  will  have  wiped  its  last  tear,  the  last  criminal  will  have 
repented  of  his  last  crime,  and  our  world  that  has  been  a  straggler 
among  the  worlds,  a  lost  star,  a  wayward  planet,  a  rebellious  globe,  a 
miscreant  satellite,  will  hear  the  voice  that  uttered  childish  plaint  in 
Bethlehem  and  agonized  prayer  in  Gethsemane  and  dying  groan  on 
Golgotha,  and  as  this  voice  cries  "  Come,"  our  world  will  return  from 
its  wanderings  never  again  to  stray.  Marching  on,  marching  on  ! 

Then  this  world's  joy  will  be  so  great  that  other  worlds  besides 
heaven  may  be  glad  to  rejoice  with  us.  By  the  aid  of  powerful  tele- 
scopes, year  by  year  becoming  more  powerful,  mountains  in  other  stars 
have  been  discovered,  and  chasms  and  volcanoes  and  canals  and  the 
style  of  atmosphere,  and  this  will  go  on,  and  mightier  and  mightier 
telescopes  will  be  invented  until  I  should  not  wonder  if  we  will  be  able 
to  exchange  signals  with  other  planets. 

And  as  I  have  no  doubt  other  worlds  are  inhabited, — for  God 
would  not  have  built  such  magnificent  world  houses  to  have  them  stand 
without  tenants  or  occupants, — in  the  final  joy  of  earth's  redemption,  all 
astronomy,  I  think,  will  take  part,  we  signaling  other  worlds,  and  they 
in  turn  signaling  their  stellar  neighbors.  Oh,  what  a  day  in  heaven 


FROM  CRADLE  TO  CROWN.  401 

that  will  be  when  the  march  of  Christ  is  finished  !  I  know  that  on  the 
cross  Christ  said,  "It  is  finished,"  but  He  meant  his  sacrificial  work 
was  finished.  All  earth  and  all  heaven  knows  that  evangelization  is 
not  finished. 

It  may  be  after  our  world,  which  is  thought  to  contain  about  fif- 
teen hundred  million  people,  shall  have  on  its  decks  twice  its  present 
population,  namely,  three  thousand  million  souls  and  all  redeemed, 
and  it  will  be  after  this  world  shall  be  so  damaged  by  conflagration 
that  no  human  foot  can  tread  its  surface  and  no  human  being  can 
breathe  its  air;  but  most  certainly  the  day  will  come  when  heaven  will 
be  finished  and  the  last  of  the  twelve  gates  of  the  eternal  city  shall 
have  clanged  shut,  never  to  open  except  for  the  admission  of  some 
celestial  embassage  returning  from  some  other  world,  and  Christ  may 
strike  his  scarred  but  healed  hand  in  emphasis  on  the  arm  of  the 
amethystine  throne,  and  say  in  substance:  "All  my  ransomed  ones 
are  gathered.  The  work  is  done.  I  have  finished  my  march  through 
the  centuries." 

When  in  1813,  after  the  battle  of  Leipsic,  which  decided  the  fate 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  in  some  respects  the  most  tremendous 
battle  ever  fought,  the  bridge  down,  the  river  incarnadined,  the  street 
choked  with  the  wounded,  the  fields  for  miles  around  strewn  with  a 
dead  soldiery  from  whom  all  traces  of  humanity  had  been  dashed  out, 
there  met  in  the  public  square  of  that  city  of  Leipsic  the  allied  con- 
querors and  kings  who  had  gained  the  victory — the  king  of  Prussia, 
the  emperor  of  Russia,  the  crown  prince  of  Sweden — followed  by 
the  chiefs  of  their  armies.  With  drawn  swords  these  monarchs  saluted 
each  other  and  cheered  for  the  continental  victory  they  had  together 
gained.  History  lias  made  the  scene  memorable. 

Greater  and  more  thrilling  will  be  the  spectacle  when  the  world 
is  all  conquered  for  the  truth,  and  in  front  of  the  palace  of  heaven  the 
kings  and  conquerors  of  all  the  allied  powers  of  Christian  usefulness 
shall  salute  each  other  and  recount  the  struggles  by  which  they 
gained  the  triumph,  and  then  hand  over  their  swords  to  Him  who  is 
the  Chief  of  the  conquerors,  crying:  "Thine,  O  Christ,  is  the  king- 
dom ;  take  the  crown  of  victory,  the  crown  of  dominion,  the  crown  of 
grace,  the  crown  of  glory." 


WE  ARE  WITNESSES 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


|  N   che  days  of  George  Stephenson,  the  perfector  of  the  locomotive 
I      engine,  the  scientists  proved  conclusively  that  a  railroad  train  could 
never  be  driven  by  steam  power  successfully  without  peril ;  but  the 
rushing  express   trains  from  Liverpool  to  Edinburgh,  and  from  Edin- 
burgh to  London,  have  made  all  the  nation  witnesses  of  the  splendid 
achievement. 

Machinists  and  navigators  proved  conclusively  that  a  steamer  could 
never  cross  the  Atlantic  ;  but  no  sooner  had  they  successfully  proved 
the  impossibility  of  such  an  undertaking  than  the  work  was  done,  and 
the  passengers  on  the  Cunard,  and  the  Inman,  and  the  National,  and 
the  White  Star  lines  are  witnesses.  There  went  up  a  guffaw  of  wise 
laughter  at  Professor  Morse's  proposition  to  make  the  lightning  of 
heaven  his  errand-boy,  and  it  was  proved  conclusively  that  the  thing 
could  never  be  done  ;  but  now  all  the  news  of  the  wide  world  put  in 
your  hands  every  morning  and  night  has  made  all  nations  witnesses. 

So,  in  the  time  of  Christ,  it  was  proved  conclusively  that  it  was 
impossible  for  Him  to  rise  from  the  dead.  It  was  shown  logically 
that  when  a  man  was  dead  he  was  dead,  and,  the  heart  and  the  liver 
and  the  lungs  having  ceased  to  perform  their  offices,  the  limbs  would 
be  rigid  beyond  all  power  of  friction  or  arousal.  They  showed  it  to 
be  an  absolute  absurdity  that  the  dead  Christ  should  ever  get  up  alive  ; 
but  no  sooner  had  they  proved  this  than  the  dead  Christ  arose,  and  the 
disciples  beheld  Him,  heard  His  voice,  and  talked  with  Him,  and  they 
took  the  witness  stand  to  prove  that  to  be  true  which  the  wiseacres  of 
the  day  had  proved  to  be  impossible  j  the  record  of  the  experiment  and 
of  the  testimony  is  in  the  words:  "Him  hath  God  raised  from  the 
dead,  whereof  we  are  witnesses." 
(402) 


403 


SI 


404 


WE  ARE    WITNESSES.  4°5 

Now  let  me  play  the  skeptic  for  a  moment.  "There  is  no  God," 
says  the  skeptic,  "for  I  have  never  seen  Him  with  my  physical  eye- 
sight. Your  Bible  is  a  pack  of  contradictions.  There  never  was  a 
miracle.  Lazarus  was  not  raised  from  the  dead,  and  the  water  was 
never  turned  into  wine.  Your  religion  is  an  imposition  on  the  cred- 
ulity of  the  ages."  I  see  an  aged  man  moving  as  though  he  would 
like  to  respond.  Here  are  hundreds  of  people  with  faces  a  little  flushed 
at  these  announcements,  and  all  through  this  throng  there  is  a  sup- 
pressed feeling  which  would  like  to  speak  in  behalf  of  the  truth  of  our 
glorious  Christianity,  crying  out,  "We  are  witnesses  !" 

The  fact  is  that  if  this  world  is  ever  brought  to  God  it  will  not  be 
through  argument,  but  through  testimony.  You  might  cover  the  whole 
earth  with  apologies  for  Christianity  and  learned  treatises  in  defence  of 
religion — you  would  not  convert  a  soul.  Lectures  on  the  harmony 
between  science  and  religion  are  beautiful  mental  discipline,  but  have 
never  saved  a  soul  and  never  will  save  a  soul.  Put  a  man  of  the  world 
and  a  man  of  the  church  against  each  other,  and  the  man  of  the  world 
will,  in  all  probability  get  the  triumph.  There  are  a  thousand  things 
in  our  religion  that  seem  illogical  to  the  world,  and  always  will  seem 
illogical. 

Our  weapon  in  this  conflict  is  faith,  not  logic  ;  faith  not  metaphysics  ; 
faith,  not  profundity ;  faith,  not  scholastic  exploration.  But  then,  in 
order  to  have  faith  we  must  have  testimony,  and  if  five  hundred  men,  or 
one  thousand  men,  or  five  hundred  thousand  men,  or  five  million  men 
get  up  and  tell  me  that  they  have  felt  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  a  joy, 
a  comfort,  a  help,  an  inspiration,  I  am  bound,  as  a  fair  minded  man,  to 
accept  their  testimony.  I  want  to  put  before  you  three  propositions 
the  truth  of  which  I  think  my  readers  will  attest  with  overwhelming 
unanimity.  The  first  proposition  is  :  We  are  witnesses  that  the  religion 
of  Christ  is  able  to  convert  a  soul.  The  Gospel  may  have  had  a  hard 
time  to  conquer  us,  we  may  have  fought  it  back,  but  we  were  vanquished. 
You  say  conversion  is  only  an  imaginary  thing.  We  know  better. 
"We  are  witnesses."  There  never  was  so  great  a  change  in  our  heart 
and  life  on  any  other  subject  as  on  this. 

FAITH    AGAINST   LOGIC. 

People  laughed  at  the  missionaries  in  Madagascar  because  they 
preached  ten  years  without  one  convert ;  but  there  are  many  thousands 


406  WE  ARE    WITNESSES. 

of  converts  in  Madagascar  to-day.  People  laughed  at  Dr.  Judson,  the 
Baptist  missionary,  because  he  kept  on  preaching  in  Burmah  five  years 
without  a  single  convert ;  but  there  are  many  thousands  of  Baptists  in 
Burmah  to-day.  People  laughed  at  Dr.  Morrison  in  China  for  preach- 
ing there  seven  years  without  a  single  conversion  ;  but  there  are  many 
thousands  of  Christians  in  China  to-day.  People  laughed  at  the  mission- 
aries for  preaching  at  Tahiti  for  fifteen  years  without  a  single  conver- 
sion ;  yet  in  all  those  lands  there  are  multitudes  of  Christians  to-day. 

THE  FORCE  OF  TESTIMONY. 

If  ten  men  should  come  to  you  when  you  are  sick  with  appalling 
sickness  and  say  they  had  the  same  sickness  and  took  a  certain  medi- 
cine and  it  cured  them,  you  would  probably  take  it.  Now,  suppose 
ten  other  men  should  come  up  and  say:  "We  don't  believe  that  there 
is  anything  in  that  medicine."  "Well,"  I  say,  "have  you  tried  it?" 
"  No,  I  never  tried  it,  but  I  don't  believe  there  is  anything  in  it."  Of 
course  you  discredit  their  testimony.  The  skeptic  may  come  and  say: 
"There  is  no  power  in  your  religion."  "  Have  you  ever  tried  it?"  "No, 
no."  "Then  avaunt!"  Let  me  take  the  testimony  of  the  millions  of 
souls  that  have  been  converted  to  God  and  comforted  in  trial  and  solaced 
in  the  last  hour.  We  will  take  their  testimony  as  they  cry,  "  We  are 
witnesses!" 

Professor  Henry,  of  Washington,  discovered  a  new  star,  and  the 
tidings  sped  by  submarine  telegraph,  and  all  the  observatories  of  Europe 
were  watching  for  that  new  star.  Oh,  hearer,  looking  out  through  the 
darkness  of  thy  soul,  canst  thou  see  a  bright  light  beaming  on  thee  ? 
"  Where  ?"  you  say.  "  Where  ?  How  can  I  find  it  ?"  Look  along  by  the 
line  of  the  Cross  of  the  Son  of  God.  Do  you  not  see  it  trembling  with 
all  tenderness  and  beaming  with  all  hope.  It  is  the  Star  of  Bethlehem. 

Oh,  my  readers,  get  your  eye  on  it.  It  is  easier  for  you  now  to  be- 
come Christians  than  it  is  to  stay  away  from  Christ  and  heaven.  When 
Mme.  Sontag  began  her  music  il  career  she  was  hissed  off  the  stage  at. 
Vienna  by  the  friends  of  her  rival,  Amelia  Steininger,  who  had  already 
begun  to  decline  through  her  dissipation.  Years  passed  on,  and  one 
day  Mme.  Sontag,  in  her  glory,  was  riding  through  the  streets  of  Ber- 
lin, when  she  saw  a  little  child  leading  a  blind  woman,  and  she  said : 
"  Come  here,  my  little  child,  come  here.  Who  is  that  you  are  leading 
by  the  hand?"  And  the  little  child  replied:  "That's  my  mother, 


WE  ARE    WITNESSES. 


407 


that's  Amelia  Steininger.     She   used  to  be  a  great  singer,  but  she  lost 
her  voice,  and  she  cried   so  much  about  it  that  she  lost  her  eyesight.1 
"Give  my  love  to  her,"  said  Mme.  Sontag,   "and  tell  her  an  old  ac- 
quaintance will  call  on  her  this  afternoon." 


"  WHEREAS  I  WAS  BLIND,  NOW  I  SEE 

The  next  week  in  Berlin  a  vast  assemblage  gathered  at  a  benefit  for 
that  poor  blind  woman,  and  it  was  said  that  Sontag  sang  that  night  as 
she  had  never  sung  before.  And  she  took  a  skilled  oculist,  who  in 
vain  tried  to  restore  eyesight  to  the  poor  blind  woman.  Until  the  day 


- 

408  WE  ARE   WITNESSES. 

of  Amelia  Steininger's  death  Madam  Sontag  took  care  of  her  and  her 
daughter  after  her.     That  was  what  the  queen  of  song  did  for  her 
enemy.     But  oh,  hear  a  more  thrilling  story  still.     Blind,  immortal 
poor  and  lost ;  thou  who,  when  the  world  and  Christ  were  rivals  for  thy 
heart  didst  hiss  thy  Lord  away — Christ  comes  now  to  give  thee  sight, 
to  give  thee  a  home,  to  give  thee  heaven.     With  more  than  a  Sontag's 
generosity,  He  comes  now  to  meet  your  need.     With  more  than  a 
Sontag's  music,  He  comes  to  plead  for  thy  deliverance. 


SACRED  SONG 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


LAMECH  had  two  boys,  the  one  a  herdsman  and  the  other  a  musi- 
cian. Jubal,  the  younger  son,  was  the  first  organ  builder.  He 
started  the  first  sound  that  rolled  from  the  wondrous  instrument 
which  has  had  so  much  to  do  with  the  worship  of  the  ages.  But  what 
improvement  has  been  made  under  the  hands  of  organ  builders  such 
as  Bernhard,  Sebastian  Bach  and  George  Hogarth  and  Joseph  Booth 
and  Thomas  Robjohn,  clear  on  down  to  George  and  Edward  Jardine 
of  our  own  day !  I  do  not  wonder  that  when  the  first  organ,  that  we 
read  of  as  given  in  757  by  an  emperor  of  the  East  to  a  king  of  France, 
sounded  forth  its  full  grandeur,  a  woman  fell  into  a  delirium  from 
which  her  reason  was  never  restored.  The  majesty  of  a  great  organ 
skillfully  played  is  almost  too  much  for  human  endurance,  but  how 
much  the  instrument  has  done  in  the  re-enforcement  of  divine  service 
it  will  take  all  time  and  all  eternity  to  celebrate. 

There  has  been  much  discussion  as  to  where  music  was  born.  I 
think  at  the  beginning,  when  the  morning  stars  sang  together,  and  all 
the  suns  of  God  shouted  for  joy,  that  the  earth  heard  the  echo.  The 
cloud  on  which  the  angels  stood  to  celebrate  the  creation  was  the  birth- 
place of  song.  Inanimate  nature  is  full  of  God's  stringed  and  wind  in- 
struments. Silence  itself — perfect  silence — is  only  a  musical  rest  in 
God's  great  anthem  of  worship.  Wind  among  the  leaves,  insects 
humming  in  the  summer  air,  the  rush  of  billow  upon  beach,  the  ocean 
far  out  sounding  its  everlasting  psalm,  the  bobolink  on  the  edge  of 
the  forest,  the  quail  whistling  up  from  the  grass,  are  music. 

On  Blackwell's  island  I  heard  coming  from  a  window  of  the  lunatic 
asylum  a  very  sweet  song.  It  was  sung  by  one  who  had  lost  her 
reason ;  and  I  have  come  to  believe  that  even  the  deranged  and  dis- 

409 


4IO  SACRED  SONG. 

ordered  elements  of  nature  would  make  music  to  our  ear,  if  we  only- 
had  acuteness  enough  to  listen.  I  suppose  that  even  the  sounds  in 
nature  that  are  discordant  and  repulsive  make  harmony  in  God's  ear. 
One  may  come  so  near  to  an  orchestra  that  the  sounds  are  painful  in- 
stead of  pleasurable,  and  I  think  we  stand  so  near  devastating  storm 
and  frightful  whirlwind  that  we  cannot  hear  that  which  makes  to  God's 
ear  and  the  ear  of  the  spirits  above  us  a  music  as  complete  as  it  is  tre- 
mendous. 

Not  only  is  inanimate  nature  full  of  music,  but  God  has  wonderfully 
organized  the  human  voice,  so  that  in  the  plainest  throat  and  lungs 
there  are  fourteen  direct  muscles  which  can  make  over  sixteen  thou- 
sand different  sounds,  and  there  are  thirty  indirect  muscles  which  can- 
make,  it  has  been  estimated,  more  than  one  hundred  and  seventy-three 
millions  of  sounds  ! 

Now,  I  say,  when  God  has  so  constructed  the  human  voice,  and  when 
he  has  filled  the  whole  earth  with  harmony,  and  when  he  recognized  it 
in  the  ancient  temple,  I  have  a  right  to  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
God  loves  music. 

IMPORTANCE    OF    SACRED    MUSIC. 

We  draw  the  first  argument  for  the  importance  of  sacred  music  from 
the  fact  that  God  has  commanded  it.  Through  Paul  he  tells  us  to  ad- 
monish one  another  in  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs,  and 
through  David  he  cries  out,  "Sing  ye  to  God,  all  ye  kingdoms  of  the 
earth."  And  there  are  hundreds  of  other  passages  we  might  name 
proving  that  it  is  as  much  a  man's  duty  to  sing  as  it  is  his  duty  to  pray. 
Indeed,  I  think  there  are  more  commands  in  the  Bible  to  sing,  than 
there  are  to  pray. 

God  not  only  asks  for  the  human  voice  but  for  instruments  of  music. 
He  asks  for  the  cymbal,  and  the  harp,  and  the  trumpet,  as  well  as  the 
organ.  And  I  suppose  that,  in  the  last  days  of  the  church,  the  harp, 
the  lute,  the  trumpet  and  all  the  instruments  of  music,  whether  they 
have  been  in  the  service  of  righteousness  or  sin  will  be  brought  by 
their  masters  and  laid  down  at  the  feet  of  Christ,  and  then  sounded  in 
the  church's  triumph,  on  her  way  from  suffering  into  glory.  "Praise 
ye  the  Lord!"  Praise  him  with  your  voices.  Praise  him  with  stringed 
instruments  and  with  organs. 

We  may  draw  another  argument  for  the  importance  of  this  exercise 


CHRISTMAS   CAROLS 


411 


4i2  SACKED  SONG. 

from  its  impressiveness.  We  know  something  of  what  secular  music 
has  achieved.  We  know  it  has  made  its  impression  on  governments, 
upon  laws,  upon  literature,  upon  whole  generations.  One  inspiriting 
national  air  is  worth  thirty  thousand  men  as  a  standing  army.  There 
comes  a  time  in  the  battle  when  one  bugle  is  worth  a  thousand  mus- 
kets. No  nation  or  church  can  afford  to  severely  economize  in  music. 
Many  of  us  are  illustrations  of  what  sacred  song  can  do.  There 
was  a  Scotch  soldier  dying  in  New  Orleans,  and  a  Scotch  minister  came 
in  to  give  him  the  consolations  of  the  Gospel.  The  man  turned  over 
on  his  pillow  and  said.  "Don't  talk  to  me  about  religion."  Then  the 
Scotch  minister  began  to  sing  a  familiar  hymn  of  Scotland  that  was 
composed  by  David  Dickenson,  beginning  with  the  words : 

Oh,  mother,  dear  Jerusalem, 
When  shall  I  come  to  thee  ? 

He  sang  it  to  the  tune  of  "Dundee,"  and  everybody  in  Scotland 
knows  that :  and  as  he  began  to  sing  the  dying  soldier  turned  over  on 
his  pillow,  and  said  to  the  minister,  "Where  did  you  learn  that?" 
"Why,"  replied  the  minister,  "my  mother  taught  me  that."  "So  did 
mine,"  said  the  dying  Scotch  soldier;  and  the  very  foundation  of  his 
heart  was  upturned,  and  then  and  there  he  yielded  himself  to  Christ. 
Oh,  it  has  an  irresistible  power.  Luther's  sermons  have  been  forgot- 
ten, but  his  "Judgment  Hymn  "  sings  on  through  the  ages,  and  will 
keep  on  singing  until  the  blast  of  the  archangel's  trumpet  shall  bring 
about  that  very  day  which  the  hymn  celebrates. 

THE  ROYAL  OLD  HYMNS. 

In  addition  to  the  inspiring  music  of  our  own  day  we  have  a  glorious 
inheritance  of  church  psalmody  which  has  come  down  fragrant  with  the 
devotions  of  other  generations — tunes  no  more  worn  out  than  they 
were  when  our  great-grandfathers  climbed  up  on  them  from  the  church 
pew  to  glory  ?  Dear  old  souls,  how  they  used  to  sing  !  When  they 
were  cheerful,  our  grandfathers  and  grandmothers  used  to  sing  "Col- 
chester." When  they  were  very  meditative,  then  the  board  meeting 
house  rang  with  " South  Street "  and  "St.  Edmond's."  Were  they 
struck  through  with  great  tenderness  they  sang  "Woodstock."  Were 
they  wrapped  in  visions  of  the  glory  of  the  church,  they  sang  "Zion." 
Were  they  overborne  with  the  love  and  glory  of  Christ,  they  sang 
"Ariel."  And  in  those  days  there  were  certain  tunes  married  to  cer- 


SACRED  SONG.  4*3 

tain  hymns,  and  they  have  lived  in  peace  a  great  while,  these  two  old 
people,  and  we  have  no  right  to  divorce  them.  "What  God  hath  joined 
together  let  no  man  put  asunder."  But  how  hard  hearted  we  must  be 
if  all  the  sacred  music  of  the  past,  and  all  the  sacred  music  of  the  pres- 
ent does  not  start  us  heavenward. 

I  have  also  noticed  the  power  of  sacred  song  to  soothe  perturbation. 
You  may  come  in  church  with  a  great  many  worriments  and  anxieties, 
yet,  perhaps,  in  the  singing  of  the  first  hymn,  you  lose  all  those  worri- 
ments and  anxieties.  We  read  in  the  Bible  of  Saul  and  how  he  was 
sad  and  angry,  and  how  the  boy  David  came  in  and  played  the  evil 
spirit  out  of  him.  A  Spanish  king  was  melancholy.  The  windows 
were  all  closed.  He  sat  in  the  darkness.  Nothing  could  bring  him 
forth  until  Faraneli  came  and  discoursed  music  three  or  four  days  to 
him.  On  the  fourth  day  he  looked  up  and  wept  and  rejoiced,  and  the 
windows  were  thrown  open,  and  that  which  all  the  splendors  of  the 
court  could  not  do  the  power  of  song  accomplished.  If  we  have  anxi- 
eties and  worriments  we  should  try  this  heavenly  charm  upon  them. 
We  must  not  sit  down  on  the  bank  of  the  hymn,  but  plunge  in,  that 
the  devil  of  care  may  be  brought  out  of  us. 

Music  also  arouses  to  action.  A  singing  church  is  always  a  triumph- 
ant church !  If  a  congregation  is  silent  during  the  exercise,  or  par- 
tially silent,  it  is  the  silence  of  death.  If,  when  the  hymn  is  given  out, 
we  hear  the  faint  hum  of  here  and  there  a  father  and  mother  in  Israel, 
while  the  vast  majority  are  silent,  that  minister  of  Christ  who  is  pre- 
siding needs  to  have  a  very  strong  constitution  if  he  does  not  get  the 
chills.  He  needs  not  only  the  grace  of  God,  but  nerves  like  whale- 
bone. It  is  amazing  how  some  people,  who  have  voice  enough  to 
discharge  all  their  duties  in  the  world,  when  they  come  into  the  house 
of  God,  have  no  voice  to  discharge  this  duty.  I  really  believe  that,  if 
the  church  of  Christ  could  rise  up  and  sing  as  it  ought  to  sing,  that 
where  we  have  a  hundred  souls  brought  into  the  kingdom  of  Christ, 
there  would  be  a  thousand. 

I  am  far  from  believing  that  music  ought  always  to  be  positively 
religious.  Refined  art  has  opened  places  where  music  has  been1 
secularized,  and  lawfully  so.  The  drawing  room,  the  musical  club,  the 
orchestra,  the  concert,  by  the  gratification  of  pure  taste  and  the  pro- 
duction of  harmless  amusement,  and  the  improvement  of  talent,  have 
become  great  forces  in  the  advancement  of  our  civilization.  Music 


4i4  SACRED  SONG. 

has  as  much  right  to  laugh  in  Surrey  gardens  as  it  has  to  pray  in  St. 
Paul's. 

In  the  kingdom  of  nature  we  have  the  glad  fifing  of  the  wind  as  well 
as  the  long  meter  psalm  of  the  thunder  ;  but  while  all  this  is  so,  every 
observer  has  noticed  that  this  art,  which  God  intended  for  the  improve- 
ment of  the  ear,  and  the  voice,  and  the  head,  and  the  heart,  has  often 
been  impressed  into  the  service  of  false  religions.  False  religions 
have  depended  more  upon  the  hymning  of  their  congregations  than 
upon  the  pulpit  proclamation  of  their  dogmas.  Tartini,  the  musical 
composer,  dreamed  one  night  that  Satan  snatched  from  his  hands  an 
instrument  and  played  upon  it  something  very  sweet — a  dream  that 
has  often  been  fulfilled  in  our  days,  the  voice  and  the  instruments  that 
ought  to  have  been  devoted  to  Christ,  being  captured  from  the  church 
and  applied  to  purposes  of  superstition. 

OBSTACLES  TO  CONGREGATIONAL  SINGING. 

An  obstacle  to  church  singing  has  been  an  inordinate  fear  of  criti- 
cism. The  vast  majority  of  people  singing  in  church  never  want  any* 
body  else  to  hear  them  sing.  Everybody  is  waiting  for  somebody  else 
to  do  his  duty.  If  we  all  sang,  then  the  inaccuracies  that  are  evident 
when  only  a  few  sing  would  not  be  heard  at  all ;  they  would  be  drowned 
out.  God  only  asks  you  to  do  as  well  as  you  can,  and  then  if  you  get 
the  wrong  pitch,  or  keep  wrong  time,  he  will  forgive  any  deficiency  of 
the  ear  and  imperfection  of  the  voice.  Angels  will  not  laugh  if  you 
should  lose  your  place  in  the  musical  scale,  or  come  in  at  the  close  a 
bar  behind. 

Another  obstacle  that  has  been  in  the  way  of  the  advancement  of  this 
holy  art  has  been  the  fact  that  there  has  been  so  much  angry  discussion 
on  the  subject  of  music.  There  are  those  who  would  have  this  exer- 
cise conducted  by  musical  instruments.  In  the  same  church  there  are 
those  who  do  not  like  musical  instruments,  and  so  it  is  organ  or  no 
organ,  and  there  is  a  fight.  In  another  church  it  is  a  question  whether 
music  shall  be  conducted  by  a  precentor  or  a  drilled  choir.  Some 
want  a  drilled  choir  and  some  want  a  precentor,  and  there  is  a  fight. 
Then  there  are  those  who  would  like  in  the  church  to  have  the  organ 
played  in  a  dull,  lifeless,  droning  way,  while  there  are  others  who  would 
have  it  wreathed  into  fantastics,  branching  out  in  jets  and  spangles  of 
sound,  rolling  and  tossing  in  marvelous  convolutions,  as  when,  in  pyro- 


SACKED  SONG.  415 

technic  display,  after  you  think  a  piece  is  exhausted,  it  breaks  out  in 
wheels,  rockets,  blue  lights  and  serpentine  demonstrations. 

Some  would  have  the  organ  played  in  almost  inaudible  sweetness, 
and  others  would  have  it  full  of  staccato  passages  that  make  the  audi- 
ence jump,  with  great  eyes  and  hair  on  end,  as  though  by  a  vision  of  the 
Witch  of  Endor.  And  he  who  tries  to  please  all  will  fail  in  everything. 
Nevertheless,  we  must  admit  the  fact  that  this  contest  which  is  going 
on,  not  in  hundreds,  but  in  thousands  of  the  churches  of  the  United 
States  to-day,  is  a  mighty  hindrance  to  the  advancement  of  this  art 
In  this  way  scores  of  churches  are  entirely  crippled  as  to  all  influence, 
and  the  music  is  a  damage  rather  than  a  praise. 

Another  obstacle  in  the  advancement  of  this  art  has  been  the  erro- 
neous notion  that  this  part  of  the  service  could  be  conducted  by  dele- 
gation. Churches  have  said  :  "Oh,  what  an  easy  time  we  shall  have. 
This  minister  will  do  the  preaching,  the  choir  will  do  the  singing  and 
we  will  have  nothing  to  do."  There  are  a  great  multitude  of  churches 
all  through  this  land,  where  the  people  are  not  expected  to  sing,  and 
the  whole  work  is  done  by  delegation  of  four  or  six  to  ten  persons  and 
the  audience  are  silent. 

In  such  a  church  in  Syracuse  an  old  elder  persisted  in  singing,  and 
so  the  choir  appointed  a  committee  to  go  and  ask  the  squire  if  he  would 
not  stop.  You  know  that  in  a  great  multitude  of  churches  the  choir 
are  expected  to  do  all  the  singing,  and  the  great  mass  of  the  people 
are  expected  to  be  silent,  and  if  you  utter  your  voice  you  are  interfer- 
ing. There  they  stand,  the  four,  with  opera  glass  dangling  at  their 
side,  singing,  "Rock  of  Ages,  Cleft  for  Me,"  with  the  same  spirit  that 
the  night  before,  on  the  stage,  they  took  their  part  in  the  "  Grand 
Duchess  "  or  "  Don  Giovanni." 

DELEGATION  DUTY. 

We  have  no  right  to  delegate  to  others  the  discharge  of  this  duty 
vvhich  God  demands  of  us.  Suppose  that  four  wood  thrushes  should 
propose  to  do  all  the  singing  some  bright  day  when  the  woods  are 
ringing  with  bird  voices.  It  is  decided  that  four  wood  thrushes  shall 
do  all  the  singing  of  the  forest.  Let  all  the  other  voices  keep  silent. 
How  beautifully  the  four  warble !  It  is  really  fine  music.  But  how 
tong  will  you  keep  the  forest  still !  Why,  Christ  would  come  into  that 
forest  and  look  up  as  he  looked  through  the  olives,  and  he  would  wave 


416  SACRED  SONG. 

his  hand  and  say,  "Let  everything  that  hath  breath  praise  the  Lord," 
and,  keeping  time  with  the  stroke  of  innumerable  wings,  there  would 
be  five  thousand  bird  voices  leaping  into  the  harmony. 

Suppose  this  delegation  of  musical  performers  were  tried  in 
heaven  ;  suppose  that  four  choice  spirits  should  try  to  do  the  sing- 
ing of  the  upper  temple.  Hush,  now,  thrones  and  dominions  and 
principalities.  David!  be  still,  though  you  were  "the  sweet  singer 
of  Israel."  Paul !  keep  quiet,  though  you  have  come  to  that  crown 
of  rejoicing.  Richard  Baxter !  keep  still,  though  this  is  the  "  Saint's 
Everlasting  Rest."  Four  spirits  now  do  all  the  singing.  But  how 
long  would  heaven  be  quiet?  How  long?  "Hallelujah!1'  would  cry 
some  glorified  Methodist  from  under  the  altar.  "Praise  the  Lord  !  " 
would  sing  the  martyrs  from  among  the  thrones.  "Thinks  be  unto 
God  who  giveth  us  the  victory ! "  a  great  multitude  of  redeemed 
spirits  would  cry. 

Myriads  of  voices  coming  into  the  harmony,  and  the  one  hundred 
and  forty  and  four  thousand  breaking  forth  into  one  acclamation. 
Stop  that  loud  singing !  Stop  !  Oh,  no  they  cannot  hear  me.  You 
might  as  well  try  to  drown  the  thunder  of  the  sky,  or  beat  back  the 
roar  of  the  sea,  for  every  soul  in  heaven  has  resolved  to  do  its  own 
singing.  Alas  !  that  we  should  have  tried  on  earth  that  which  they 
cannot  do  in  heaven,  and  instead  of  joining  all  our  voices  in  the  praise 
of  the  most  high  God,  delegating  perhaps  to  unconsecrated  men  and 
women  this  most  solemn  and  most  delightful  service. 

After  a  shower  there  are  scores  of  streams  that  come  down  the 
mountain  side  with  voices  rippling  and  silvery,  pouring  into  one 
river  and  then  rolling  in  united  strength  to  the  sea.  So  I  would  have 
all  church  congregations  send  forth  the  voice  of  prayer  and  praise, 
pouring  it  into  the  great  tide  of  public  worship  that  rolls  on  and  on  to 
empty  into  the  great,  wide  heart  of  God. 

A    COMING    REVOLUTION. 

There  will  be  a  great  revolution  on  this  subject  in  all  our  churches. 
God  will  come  down  by  his  spirit  and  rouse  up  the  old  hymns  and 
funes  that  have  not  been  more  than  half  awake  since  the  time  of  our 
grandfathers.  The  silent  pews  in  the  church  will  break  forth  into 
music,  and  when  the  conductor  takes  his  place  on  the  Sabbath  day 
there  will  be  a  great  host  of  voices  rushing  into  the  harmony.  If  we 


Hymn  of  Thanksgiving. 

/^)OR  the  blessings  of  the  field, 
S^  For  the  stores  the  gardens 

yield, 

For  the  vine's  exalted  juice, 
For  the  generous  olive's  use  ; 

Flocks  that  whiten  all  the  plain, 
Yellow  sheaves  of  ripened  grain, 
Clouds  that  drop  their  fattening 

dews, 
Suns  that  temperate  warmth  diffuse; 

All  that  Spring,   with   bounteous 

hand, 

Scatters  o'er  the  smiling  land ; 
All  that  liberal  Autumn  pours 
From  her  rich  o'erflowing  stores; 

These  to  Thee,  my  God,  we  owe — 
Source  whence  all    our  blessings 

flow! 

And  for  these  my  soul  shall  raise 
Grateful  vows  and  solemn  praise. 

Yet  should  rising  whirlwinds  tear 
From  its  stem  the  ripening  ear, 
Should  the  fig-tree's  blasted  shoot 
Drop  her  green  untimely  fruit — 

Should  the  vine  put  forth  no  more, 
Nor  the  olive  yield  her  store, 
Though  the  sickening  flocks  should  fall, 
And  the  herds  desert  the  stall — 

Should  thine  altered  hand  restrain 
The  early  and  the  latter  rain, 
Blast  each  opening  bud  of  joy, 
And  the  rising  year  destroy — 

Yet  to  Thee  my  soul  should  raise 
Grateful  vows  and  solemn  praise, 
And,  when  every  blessing's  flown, 
Love  Thee — for  Thyself  alone. 
ANNA  LCETITIA 


27 


A  SONG  TO   CHEER 


418 


SACKED  SONG.  4*9 

have  no  taste  for  this  service  on  earth,  what  will  we  do  in  heaven, 
where  they  all  sing,  and  sing  forever  ? 

I  shall  never  forget  hearing  a  Frenchman  sing  the  "Marseillaise" 
on  the  Champs  Elysees,  Paris,  just  before  the  battle  of  Sedan  in  1870. 
I  never  saw  such  enthusiasm  before  or  since.  As  he  sang  that 
national  air,  Oh  !  how  the  Frenchmen  shouted  !  Have  you  ever  in  an 
English  assemblage  heard  the  baad  play  "  God  Save  the  Queen  ?" 
If  you  have,  you  know  something  about  the  enthusiasm  of  a  national 
air. 

Now,  these  songs  we  sing  Sabbath  by  Sabbath  are  the  national 
airs  of  Jesus  Christ  and  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  if  we  do  not 
learn  to  sing  them  here,  how  do  we  expect  to  sing  the  song  of  Moses 
and  the  Lamb  ?  I  should  not  be  surprised  at  all  if  som^:  of  the  best 
anthems  of  heaven  were  made  up  of  some  of  the  best  songs  on  earth. 
May  God  increase  our  reverence  for  Christian  psalmody,  and  keep  us 
from  disgracing  it  by  our  indifference  and  frivolity.  When  Cromwell's 
army  went  into  battle,  he  stood  at  the  head  of  them  one  day,  and  gave 
out  the  long  meter  doxology  to  the  tune  of  the  "Old  Hundred," 
and  that  great  host,  company  by  company,  regiment  by  regiment, 
battalion  by  battalion,  joined  in  the  doxology: 

Praise  God  from  whomall  blessings  flow, 
Praise  him,  all  creatures  he  -  -;  below ; 
Praise  him  above,  ye  hea v-uly  host, 
Praise  Father,  Son  anr1  ff    y  Ghost 

And  while  they  sang  they  marched,  and  while  they  marched  they 
fought,  and  while  they  fought  they  got  the  victory.  Oh,  men  and 
women  of  Jesus  Christ,  let  us  go  into  all  our  conflicts  singing  the 
praises  of  God,  and  then  instead  of  falling  back,  as  we  often  do,  from 
defeat  to  defeat,  we  will  be  marching  on  from  victory  to  victory. 


THE  RAIN'S  STORY 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


THE  Book  of  Job  has  been  the  subject  of  unbounded  theological 
wrangle.  Men  have  made  it  the  ring  in  which  to  display  their 
ecclesiastical  pugilism.  Some  say  that  the  Book  of  Job  is  a  true 
history  ;  others,  that  it  is  an  allegory  ;  others,  that  it  is  an  epic  poem , 
others,  that  it  is  a  dram:..  Some  say  that  Job  lived  eighteen  hundred 
years  before  Christ,  others  say  that  he  never  lived  at  all.  Some  say 
that  the  author  of  this  book  was  Job  ;  others,  David  ;  others,  Solo- 
mon. The  discussion  has  landed  some  in  blank  infidelity.  Now,  I 
have  no  trouble  with  the  Books  of  Job  or  Revelation— the  two  most 
mysterious  books  in  the  Bible — because  of  a  rule  I  adopted  some  years 
ago. 

I  wade  down  into  a  Scripture  passage  as  long  as  I  can  touch  bottom, 
and  when  I  cannot,  the.n  I  wade  out.  I  used  to  wade  in  until  it  ,vas 
over  my  head  and  then  I  got  drowned.  I  study  a  passage  of  Scripture 
so  long  as  it  is  a  comfort  and  help  to  my  soul,  but  when  it  becomes  a 
perplexity  and  a  spiritual  upturning  I  quit.  In  other  words,  we  ought 
to  wade  in  up  to  our  heart,  but  never  wade  in  until  it  is  over  our  head. 
No  man  should  ever  expect  to  swim  across  this  great  ocean  of  divine 
truth.  I  go  down  into  that  ocean  as  I  go  down  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean 
at  East  Hampton,  Long  Island,  just  far  enough  to  bathe  ;  then  I  come 
out.  I  never  had  any  idea  that  with  my  weak  hand  and  foot  I  could 
strike  my  way  clear  over  to  Liverpool. 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    RAIN. 


I   suppose    you    understand    your  farr'lv   genealogy.     You   know 
something  about  your  parents,  your  grandparents,  your  great-grand- 
parents.    Perhaps  you  know  where  th<^   where  born,  or  where  they 
420 


THE  RAIN'S  STORY.  421 

died.  Have  you  ever  studied  the  parentage  of  the  shower?  "Hath 
not  the  rain  a  father?  "  This  question  is  not  asked  by  a  poetaster  or 
a  scientist,  but  by  the  head  of  the  universe.  To  humble  and  to  save 
Job  God  asks  him  fourteen  questions.  About  the  world's  architec- 
ture, about  the  refraction  of  the  sun's  rays,  about  the  titles,  about  the 
snow  crystal,  about  the  lightnings,  and  then  He  arraigns  him  with  the 
interrogation  of  the  text  "Hath  the  rain  a  father?" 

Safely  housed  during  the  storm,  you  hear  the  rain  beating  against 
the  window  pane,  and  you  find  it  searching  all  the  crevices  of  the 
window  sill.  It  first  comes  down  in  solitary  drops,  pattering  the  dust, 
and  then  it  deluges  the  fields  and  angers  the  mountain  torrents,  and 
makes  the  traveler  implore  shelter.  You  know  that  the  rain  is  not  an 
accident  of  the  world's  economy.  You  know  it  was  born  of  the  cloud. 
You  know  it  was  rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  wind.  You  know  it  was 
sung  to  sleep  by  the  storm.  You  know  that  it  is  a  flying  evangel  from 
heaven  to  earth.  You  know  it  is  the  gospel  of  the  weather.  You 
know  that  God  is  its  father. 

If  this  be  true,  then  how  wicked  is  our  murmuring  about  climatic 
changes!  The  first  eleven  Sabbaths  after  I  entered  the  ministry  it 
stormed.  Through  the  week  it  was  clear  weather,  but  on  the  Sabbaths 
the  old  country  meeting  house  looked  like  Noah's  ark  before  it  landed. 
A  few  drenched  people  sat  before  a  drenched  pastor;  but  most  of  the 
farmers  stayed  at  home  and  thanked  God  that  what  was  bad  for  the 
church  was  good  for  the  crops.  I  committed  a  good  deal  of  sin  in 
those  days  in  denouncing  the  weather.  Ministers  of  the  Gospel 
sometimes  fret  about  stormy  Sabbaths  or  hot  Sabbaths,  or  inclement 
Sabbaths.  They  forget  the  fact  that  the  same  God  who  ordained  the 
Sabbath  and  sent  forth  his  ministers  to  announce  salvation  also 
ordained  the  weather.  "Hath  the  rain  a  father?" 

Merchants,  also,  with  their  stores  filled  with  new  goods,  and  their 
clerks  hanging  idly  around  the  counters,  commit  the  same  transgres- 
sion. There  have  been  seasons  when  the  whole  spring  and  fall  trade 
has  been  ruined  by  protracted  wet  weather.  The  merchants  then 
examined  the  "weather  probabilities"  with  more  interest  than  they 
read  their  Bibles.  They  watched  for  a  patch  of  blue  sky.  They  went 
complaining  home  again.  In  all  that  season  of  wet  feet  and  dripping 
garments  and  impassable  streets  they  never  once  asked  the  question, 
"  Hath  the  rain  a  father?  " 


422 


THE  RAIN'S  STORY. 


So  agriculturists  commit  this  sin.  There  is  nothing  more  annoying 
than  to  have  planted  corn  rot  in  the  ground  because  of  too  much 
moisture,  or  hay  all  ready  for  the  mow  dashed  of  a  shower,  or  wheat 
almost  ready  for  the  sickle  spoiled  with  the  rust.  How  hard  it  is  to 
bear  these  agricultural  disappointments  !  God  has  infinite  resources, 
but  I  do  not  think  He  has  capacity  to  make  weather  to  please  all  the 
farmers.  Sometimes  it  is  too  hot,  or  it  is  too  cold;  it  is  too  wet,  or  it 


FINE    WEATHER    AT    SEA. 

is  too  dry;  it  is  too  early,  or  it  is  too  late.  They  forget  that  the  God 
who  promised  seed  time  and  harvest,  summer  and  winter,  cold  and 
heat,  also  ordained  all  climatic  changes.  There  is  one  question  that 
ought  to  be  written  on  every  barn,  on  every  fence,  on  every  haystack, 
on  every  farm-house,  "Hath  the  rain  a  father?" 

MEN    HARD    TO    PLEASE. 

If  you  only  knew  what  a  vast  enterprise  it  is  to  provide  appropriate 


THE  RAIN'S  STORY.  423 

weather  for  this  world,  we  would  not  be  so  critical  of  the  Lord.  Isaac 
Watts  at  ten  years  of  age  complained  that  he  did  not  like  the  hymns 
that  were  sung  in  the  English  chapel.  "Well,"  said  his  father,  "Isaac, 
instead  of  your  complaining  about  the  hymns,  go  and  make  hymns 
that  are  better."  And  he  did  go  and  make  hymns  that  were  better. 
Now  I  say  to  you,  if  you  do  not  like  the  weather,  get  up  a  weather 
company,  and  have  a  president,  and  a  secretary,  and  a  treasurer,  and 
a  board  of  directors,  and  ten  million  dollars  of  stock,  and  then  provide 
weather  that  will  suit  us  all.  There  is  a  man  who  has  a  weak  head, 
and  he  cannot  stand  the  glare  of  the  sun.  You  must  have  a  cloud 
always  hovering  over  him. 

I  like  the  sunshine  ;  I  cannot  live  without  plenty  of  sunlight ;  so  you 
must  always  have  enough  light  for  me.  Two  ships  meet  in  mid- 
Atlantic.  The  one  is  going  to  Southampton,  the  other  is  coming  to 
New  York.  Provide  weather  that,  while  it  is  abaft  for  one  ship,  is  not 
a  head  wind  for  the  other.  There  is  a  farm  that  is  dried  up  for  the  lack 
of  rain,  and  there  is  a  pleasure  party  going  out  for  a  field  excursion. 
Provide  weather  that  will  suit  the  dry  farm  and  the  pleasure  excur- 
sion. No,  sirs,  I  will  not  take  one  dollar  of  stock  in  your  weather 
company.  There  is  only  one  Being  in  the  universe  who  knows  enough 
to  provide  the  right  kind  of  weather  for  this  world.  "  Hath  the  rain  a 
father?" 

GOD'S   SUPERVISION. 

My  subject  suggests  God's  minute  supervisal.  You  see  the  divine 
Sonship  in  every  drop  of  rain.  The  jewels  of  the  shower  are  not 
flung  away  by  a  spendthrift  who  knows  not  how  many  he  throws  or 
where  they  fall.  They  are  all  shining  princes  of  heaven.  They  all 
have  eternal  lineage.  They  are  all  the  children  of  a  king.  "  Hath  the 
rain  a  father  ?  Well,  then,  I  say  if  God  takes  note  of  every  minute 
raindrop,  he  will  take  notice  of  the  most  insignificant  affair  of  my  life. 
It  is  the  astronomical  view  of  things  that  bothers  me. 

We  look  up  into  the  night  heavens,  and  we  say,  "Worlds  !  worlds  !"  \ 
and  how  insignificant  we  feel !  We  stand  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Wash- 
ington or  Mont  Blanc,  and  we  feel  that  we  are  only  insects,  and 
then  we  say  to  ourselves,  "Though  the  world  is  so  large,  the  sun  is 
one  million  four  hundred  thousand  times  larger."  "Oh!"  we  say, 
"  it  is  no  use  ;  if  God  wheels  that  great  machinery  through  immens- 


424  THE  RAIN'S  STORY. 

ity,  He  will  not  take  the  trouble  to  look  down  at  me."  Infidel  con- 
clusion. Saturn,  Mercury  and  Jupiter  are  no  more  rounded  and 
weighed  and  swung  by  the  hand  of  God  than  are  the  globules  on  a 
lilac  bush  the  m6rning  after  a  shower. 

God  is  no  more  in  magnitude  than  life  is  in  minutiae.  If  He  has 
scales  to  weigh  the  mountains,  He  has  balances  delicate  enough  to 
weigh  the  infinitesimal.  You  can  no  more  see  him  through  the  teles- 
cope than  you  can  see  him  through  the  microscope  ;  no  more  when  you 
look  up  than  when  you  look  down.  Are  not  the  hairs  of  your  head  all 
numbered?  And  if  Himalaya  has  a  God.  "Hath  not  the  rain  a 
father?"  I  take  this  doctrine  of  a  particular  Providence,  and  I  thrust 
it  into  the  very  midst  of  your  every-day  life.  If  God  fathers  a  raindrop, 
is  there  anything  so  insignificant  in  your  affairs  that  God  will  not  father 
that? 

When  Druyse,  the  gunsmith,  invented  the  needle  gun,  which  decided 
the  battle  of  Sadowa,  was  it  a  mere  accident  ?  When  a  farmer's  boy 
showed  Blucher  a  short  cut  by  which  he  could  bring  his  army  up  soon 
enough  to  decide  Waterloo  for  England,  was  it  a  mere  accident? 
When  Lord  Byron  took  a  piece  of  money  and  tossed  it  up  to  decide 
whether  or  not  he  should  be  affianced  to  Miss  Millbank,  was  it  a  mere 
accident  which  side  of  the  money  was  up  and  which  was  down  ?  When 
the  Christian  army  was  besiged  at  Baziers,  and  a  drunken  drummer 
came  in  at  midnight  and  rang  the  alarm  bell,  not  knowing  what  he  was 
doing,  but  waking  up  the  host  in  time  to  fight  their  enemies  that  mo- 
ment arriving,  was  it  accident  ? 

When  in  one  of  the  Irish  wars  a  starving  mother,  flying  with  her 
starving  child,  sank  down  and  fainted  on  the  rocks  in  the  night  and 
her  hand  fell  on  a  warm  bottle  of  milk,  did  that  just  happen  so?  God 
is  either  in  the  affairs  of  men  or  our  religion  is  worth  nothing  at  all, 
and  you  had  better  take  !:t  away  from  us,  and  instead  of  this  Bible, 
which  teaches  the  doctrine,  give  us  a  secular  book,  and  let  us,  like  the 
the  famous  Mr.  Fox,  in  his  last  hour,  cry  out :  "  Read  me  the  eighth 
book  of  Virgil !" 

Oh  !  my  friends,  let  us  rouse  up  to  an  appreciation  of  the  fact  that 
all  the  affairs  of  our  life  are  under  a  king's  command  and  under  a 
father's  watch.  Alexander's  war  horse,  Bucephalus,  would  allow  any- 
body to  mount  him  when  he  was  unharnessed,  but  as  soon  as  they  put 
on  that  war  horse  the  saddle  and  trappings  of  the  conqueror  he  would 


425 


426  THE  RAINES  STORY. 

allow  no  one  but  Alexander  to  touch  him.  And  if  a  soulless  horse 
could  have  so  much  pride  in  his  owner,  shall  not  we  immortals  exult  in 
the  fact  that  we  are  owned  by  a  king .' 

THE    MYSTERY    OF    RAIN. 

Again  my  subject  teaches  me  that  God's  dealings  with  us  are  inex- 
plicable. That  was  the  original  force  of  my  text.  The  rain  was  a  great 
mystery  to  the  ancients.  They  could  not  understand  how  the  water 
should  get  into  the  cloud,  and  getting  there,  how  it  should  be  sus- 
pended, or  falling,  why  it  should  come  down  in  drops.  Modern  science 
comes  along  and  says  there  are  two  portions  of  air  of  different  temper- 
ature, and  they  are  charged  with  moisture,  and  the  one  portion  of  air 
decreases  in  temperature  so  the  water  can  no  longer  be  held  in  vapor, 
and  it  falls.  And  they  tell  us  that  some  of  the  clouds  that  look  to  be 
only  as  large  as  a  man's  hand,  and  to  be  almost  quiet  in  the  heavens, 
are  great  mountains  of  mist  four  thousand  feet  from  base  to  top,  and 
that  they  rush  miles  a  minute. 

But  after  all  the  brilliant  experiments  of  Dr.  James  Hutton,  and 
Saussure,  and  other  scientists,  there  is  an  infinite  mystery  about  the 
rain.  There  is  an  ocean  of  the  unfathomable  in  every  raindrop,  and 
God  says  to-day  as  He  said  in  the  time  of  Job,  "If  you  cannot  under- 
stand one  drop  of  rain  do  not  be  surprised  if  My  dealings  with  you  are 
inexplicable."  Why  does  that  aged  man,  decrepit,  beggared,  vicious, 
sick  of  the  world,  and  the  world  sick  of  him,  live  on,  while  here  is  a 
man  in  mid-life,  consecrated  to  God,  hard  working,  useful  in  every  re- 
spect, who  dies  ?  Why  does  that  old  gossip,  gadding  along  the  street 
about  everybody's  business  but  her  own,  have  such  good  health,  while 
the  Christian  mother,  with  a  flock  of  little  ones  about  her  whom  she  is 
preparing  for  usefulness  and  for  heaven — the  mother  you  think  could 
not  not  be  spared  an  hour  from  that  household — why  does  she  lie  down 
and  die  of  a  cancer  ? 

Why  does  that  man,  selfish  to  the  core,  go  on  adding  fortune  to 
fortune,  consuming  everything  on  himself,  continue  to  prosper,  while 
that  man,  who  has  been  giving  ten  per  cent,  of  all  his  income  to  God 
and  the  church,  goes  into  bankruptcy  ?  Before  we  make  stark  fools  of 
ourselves,  let  us  stop  pressing  that  everlasting  "why."  Let  us  wor- 
ship where  we  cannot  understand.  Let  a  man  take  that  one  question, 
"Why?"  and  follow  it  far  enough,  and  push  it,  and  he  will  land  in 


fHE  RATWS  STORY.  4*7 

wretchedess  and  perdition.  We  want  in  our  theology  fewer  interro- 
gation marks  and  more  exclamation  points.  Heaven  is  the  place  for 
explanation.  Earth  is  the  place  for  trust.  If  you  cannot  understand 
so  minute  a  thing  as  a  raindrop,  how  can  you  expect  to  understand 
God's  dealings  ? 

THE  SOURCE  OF  TEARS. 

Again,  as  1  believe,  the  rain  of  tears  is  of  divine  origin.  Great 
clouds  of  trouble  sometimes  hover  over  us.  They  are  black,  and  they 
are  gorged,  and  they  are  thunderous.  They  are  more  portentous  than 
any  that  Salvator  or  Claude  ever  painted — clouds  of  poverty,  or 
persecution,  or  breavement.  They  hover  over  us,  and  they  get  darker 
and  blacker,  and  after  awhile  a  tear  starts,  and  we  think  by  an  extra 
pressure  of  the  eyelid  to  stopit.  Others  follow,  and  after  awhile  there 
is  a  shower  of  tearful  emotion.  Yea,  there  is  a  rain  of  tears.  "Hath 
that  rain  a  father?" 

"  Oh,"  you  say,  "  a  tear  is  nothing  but  a  drop  of  limpid  fluid  secreted 
by  the  lachrymal  gland — is  only  a  sign  of  weak  eyes."  Great  mistake. 
It  is  one  of  the  Lord's  richest  benedictions  to  the  world.  There  are 
people  in  Blackwell's  Island  insane  asylum,  and  at  Utica,  and  at  all  the 
asylums  of  this  land,  who  were  demented  by  the  fact  that  they  could 
not  cry  at  the  right  time.  Said  a  maniac  in  one  of  our  public  institu- 
tions, under  a  gospel  sermon  that  started  the  tears  :  "  Do  you  see 
that  tear?  That  is  the  first  1  have  wept  for  twelve  years.  I  think  it  will 
help  my  brain." 

There  are  a  great  many  in  the  grave  who  couid  not  stand  any 
longer  under  the  glacier  of  trouble.  If  that  glacier  had  only  melted 
into  weeping  they  could  have  endured  it.  There  have  been  times  in 
your  life  when  you  would  have  given  the  world,  if  you  had  possessed 
it,  for  one  tear.  You  could  shriek,  you  ccvuld  blaspheme,  but  you 
could  not  cry.  Have  you  never  seen  a  man  holding  the  hand  of  a  dead 
wife,  who  had  been  all  the  world  to  him  ?  The  temples  livid  with  ex- 
citement, the  eye  dry  and  frantic,  no  moisture  on  the  upper  or  lower 
lid.  You  saw  there  were  bolts  of  anger  in  the  cloud,  but  no  rain.  To 
your  Christian  comfort,  he  said,  "  Don't  talk  to  me  about  God  ;  there 
is  no  God,  or  if  there  is  I  hate  Him ;  don't  talk  to  me  about  God ; 
would  He  have  left  me  and  these  motherless  children  ?" 

But  a  few  hours  or  days  after,  coming  across  some  lead  pencil  that 
she  owned  in  life,  or  some  letters  which  she  wrote  when  he  was  away 


428  THE  RAIN'S  STORY. 

from  hiome,  with  an  outcry  that  appals,  there  bursts  the  fountain  of 
tears,  and  as  the  sunlight  of  God's  consolation  strikes  that  fountain  of 
tears,  you  find  out  that  it  is  a  tender-hearted,  merciful,  pitiful  and  all 
compassionate  God  who  was  the  Father  of  that  rain. 

THE  FATHER  OF  TEARS. 

In  a  religious  assemblage  a  man  arose  and  said:  '"I  have  been  a 
very  wicked  man  ;  I  broke  my  mother's  heart.  I  became  an  infidel, 
but  I  have  seen  my  evil  way,  and  I  have  surrendered  my  heart  to  God, 
but  it  a  grief  that  I  never  can  get  over  that  my  parents  should  never 
have  heard  of  my  salvation;  I  don't  know  whether  they  are  living  or 
dead."  While  he  was  yet  standing  in  the  audience  a  voice  from  the 
gallery  said,  "Oh,  my  son,  my  son  !"  He  looked  up  and  he  recognized 
her.  It  was  his  old  mother.  She  had  been  praying  for  him  a  great 
many  years,  and  when  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  the  prodigal  son  and  the 
praying  mother  embraced  each  other,  there  was  a  rain,  a  tremendous 
rain,  of  tears,  and  God  was  the  Father  of  those  tears. 

The  king  of  Carthage  was  dethroned.  His  people  rebelled  against 
him.  He  was  driven  into  banishment.  His  wife  and  children  were 
outrageously  abused.  Years  went  by,  and  the  king  of  Carthage  made 
many  friends.  He  gathered  up  a  great  army.  He  marched  again  to- 
ward Carthage.  Reaching  the  gates  of  Carthage  the  best  men  of  the 
place  came  out  barefooted  and  bareheaded  and  with  ropes  around 
their  necks,  crying  for  mercy.  They  said,  "We  abused  you  and  we 
abused  your  family,  but  we  cry  for  mercy."  The  king  of  Carthage 
looked  down  upon  the  people  from  his  chariot  and  said  :  "I  came  to 
bless,  I  didn't  come  to  destroy.  You  drove  me  out,  but  this  day  I  pro- 
nounce pardon  for  all  the  people.  Open  the  gates  and  let  the  army 
come  in."  The  king  marched  in  and  took  the  throne,  and  the  people 
all  shouted,  "  Long  live  the  king  !" 

My  friends,  you  have  driven  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  King  of  the 
church,  away  from  your  heart ;  you  have  been  maltreating  Him  all 
these  years ;  but  He  comes  back  to-day.  He  stands  in  front  of  the 
gates  of  your  soul.  If  you  will  only  pray  for  His  pardon  He  will  meet 
you  with  His  gracious  spirit  and  He  will  say:  "Thy  sins  and  thine  in- 
iquities I  will  remember  no  more.  Open  wide  the  gate,  I  will  take  the 
throne.  My  peace  I  give  unto  you."  And  then,  all  through  this  audi- 
ence, from  the  young  and  from  the  old,  there  will  be  a  rain  of  tears,  and 
God  will  be  the  father  of  that  rain  ! 


LESSON  OF  THE  PYRAMID 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


WE  had,  on  a  morning  of  December,  1889,  landed  in  Africa.  Amic 
the  howling  boatmen  at  Alexandria,  we  had  come  ashore  and 
taken  the  rail  train  to  Cairo,  Egypt,  along  the  banks  of  the 
most  thoroughly  harnessed  river  of  all  the  world — the  river  Nile.  We 
had  at  eventide  entered  the  city  of  Cairo,  the  city  where  Christ  dwelt 
while  staying  in  Egypt  during  the  Herodic  persecution.  It  was  our 
first  night  in  Egypt.  No  destroying  angel  swept  through  the  land,  as 
once  ;  but  all  the  stars  were  out,  and  the  sky  was  filled  with  angels  of 
beauty  and  angels  of  light,  and  the  air  was  as  balmy  as  an  American 
June.  The  next  morning  we  were  early  awake  and  at  the  window, 
looking  upon  the  palm  trees  in  the  full  glory  of  leafage,  and  upon  gar- 
dens of  fruits  and  flowers  at  the  very  season  when  our  homes  far  away 
are  canopied  by  bleak  skies  and  the  last  leaf  of  the  forest  has  gone 
down  in  the  equinoctials. 

But  how  can  I  describe  our  thrill  of  expectation,  for  to-day  we  are  to 
see  what  all  the  world  has  seen  or  wants  to  see — the  pyramids  !  We 
are  mounted  for  an  hour  and  a  half's  ride.  We  pass  on  amid  bazaars 
stuffed  with  rugs  and  carpets,  and  curious  fabrics  of  all  sorts  from 
Smyrna,  from  Algiers,  from  Persia,  from  Turkey,  and  through  streets 
where  we  meet  people  of  all  colors  and  all  garbs,  carts  loaded  with 
garden  productions,  priests  in  gowns,  women  in  black  veils,  Bedouins 
in  long  and  seemingly  superfluous  apparel,  Janissaries  in  jackets  of 
embroidered  gold — out  and  on  toward  the  great  pyramid  ;  for,  though 
there  are  sixty-nine  pyramids  still  standing,  the  pyramid  at  Gizeh  is  the 
monarch  of  them  all.  We  meet  camels  grunting  under  their  loads, 
and  see  buffaloes  on  either  side  browsing  in  pasture  fields. 

429 


430  THE  LESSON   OS    'JHE  PY 

The  road  we  travel  passes  for  part  of  the  way  under  clumps  of 
acacia  and  by  long  rows  of  sycamore  and  tamarisk  ;  but,  after  awhile 
it  becomes  a  path  of  rock  and  sand,  and  we  find  we  have  reached 
the  margin  of  the  desert,  the  great  Sahara  desert,  and  we  cry  out  to 
the  dragoman  as  we  see  a  huge  pile  of  rock  looming  in  sight, 
"  Dragoman,  what  is  that?"  His  answer  is,  "The  pyramid."  And 
then  it  seems  as  if  we  were  living  a  century  every  minute.  Our 
thoughts  and  emotions  are  too  rapid  and  intense  for  utterance,  and 
we  ride  on  in  silence  until  we  come  to  the  foot  of  the  pyramid,  per- 
haps the  oldest  structure  in  all  the  earth — four  thousand  years  old  at 
least.  Here  it  is.  We  stand  under  the  shadow  of  a  structure  that 
shuts  out  all  the  earth  and  all  the  sky,  and  we  look  up  and  strain 
our  vision  to  appreciate  the  distant  top,  and  are  overwhelmed  while 
we  cry,  "  The  pyramid  !  the  pyramid  !" 

Each  person  in  our  party  had  two  or  three  guides  or  he-lpers.  One 
of  them  unrolled  his  turban  and  tied  it  around  my  waist  and  held  the 
other  end  of  the  turban  as  a  matter  of  safety.  Many  of  the  blocks  of 
stone  are  four  or  five  feet  high,  and  beyond  an  ordinary  human  stride 
unless  assisted.  But  with  two  Arabs  to  pull  and  two  Arabs  to  push, 
I  found  myself  rapidly  ascending  from  height  to  height,  and  on  to 
altitudes  terrific,  and  at  last  at  the  tiptop  we  found  ourselves  on  a  level 
space  of  about  thirty  feet  square.  Through  clearest  atmosphere  we 
looked  off  upon  the  desert,  and  off  upon  the  winding  Nile,  and  off  upon 
the  Sphinx,  with  its  features  of  everlasting  stone,  and  yonder  upon  the 
minarets  of  Cairo  glittering  in  the  sun,  and  yonder  upon  Memphis  in 
ruins,  and  off  upon  the  wreck  of  empires  and  the  battlefields  of  ages, 
a  radius  of  view  enough  to  fill  the  mind  and  shock  the  nerves  and  over- 
whelm one's  entire  being. 

After  we  had  looked  around  for  awhile,  and  a  kodak  had  pictured  the 
grcup,  we  descended.  The  descent  was  more  trying  than  the  ascent, 
for  in  climbing  you  need  not  see  the  depths  beneath ;  but  in  coming  down 
it  was  impossible  not  to  see  the  abysses  below.  But  with  two  Arabs 
ahead  to  help  us  down,  and  two  Arabs  to  hold  us  back,  we  were  low- 
ered, hand  below  hand,  until  the  ground  was  invitingly  near,  and  amid 
the  jargon  of  the  Arabs  we  were  safely  landed.  Then  came  one  of  the 
most  \vonderful  feats  of  daring  and  agility.  One  of  the  Arabs  solici- 
ted a  dollar,  saying  he  would  run  up  and  down  the  pyramid  in  seven 
minutes.  We  would  rather  have  given  him  a  dollar  not  to  go,  but  this 


f/bliitk 

children,  kf' 

us  nef  Is 
ir)  \ferd  .neitfier 


buf  indeed, 
in  fruJt). 


[•Jshn-i-18- 


L_ 


431 


HALL   OF   PILLARS— RUINS   OF  KARNAK,   EGYPT 


432 


THE  LESSON  OF  THE  PYRAMID.  433 

ascent  and  descent  in  seven  minutes  he  was  determined  on,  and  so  by 
the  watch  in  seven  minutes  he  went  to  the  top  and  was  back  again  at 
the  base^  It  was  a  blood-curdling  spectacle. 

WHAT  THE  PYRAMID  TEACHES. 

Well  of  wnat  is  this  Cyclopean  masonry  a  sign  and  a  witness? 
Among  other  things — of  the  prolongation  of  human  work  compared  with 
the  brevity  of  human  life.  In  all  of  its  four  thousand  years  this  pyramid 
has  only  lost  eighteen  feet  in  width  ;  each  side  of  its  square  at  the  base 
is  changed  only  from  seven  hundred  and  sixty-four  feet  to  seven  hund- 
red and  forty-six  feet,  and  the  most  of  that  eighteen  feet  was  taken  off 
by  architects  to  furnish  stone  for  building  in  the  city  of  Cairo.  The  men 
who  constructed  the  pyramid  worked  at  it  only  a  few  years,  and  then 
put  down  the  trowel,  and  the  compass,  and  the  square,  and  lowered 
the  derrick  which  had  lifted  the  ponderous  weights  ;  but  forty  centuries 
has  their  work  stood,  and  it  will  be  good  for  forty  centuries  more. 

All  Egypt  has  been  shaken  by  terrible  earthquakes,  and  cities 
have  been  prostrated  or  swallowed,  but  that  pyramid  has  defied  all 
volcanic  paroxysms.  It  has  looked  upon  some  of  the  greatest  battles 
ever  fought  since  the  world  stood.  Where  are  the  men  who  con- 
structed it.  Their  bodies  g©ne  to  dust,  and  even  the  dust  scattered. 
Even  the  sarcophagus  in  which  the  king's  mummy  may  have  slept  is 
empty. 

So  men  die,  but  their  work  lives  on.  We  are  all  building  pyramids, 
not  to  last  four  thousand  years,  but  forty  thousand,  forty  million,  forty 
trillion,  forty  quadrillion,  forty  quintillion.  For  a  while  we  wield  the 
trowel  or  pound  with  the  hammer,  or  measure  with  the  yardstick,  or 
write  with  the  pen,  or  experiment  with  the  scientific  battery,  or  plan 
with  the  brain,  and  for  a  while  the  foot  walks  and  the  eye  sees,  and 
the  ear  hears,  and  the  tongue  speaks.  All  the  good  words  or  bad 
words  we  speak  are  spread  out  into  one  layer  for  a  pyramid.  All 
the  kind  deeds  or  malevolent  deeds  we  do  are  spread  out  into  another 
layer.  All  the  Christian  or  un-Christian  example  we  set  is  spread 
out  in  another  layer.  All  the  indirect  influences  of  our  lives  are  spread 
out  in  another  layer.  Then  the  time  soon  comes  when  we  put  dowL 
the  implements  of  toil  and  pass  away,  but  the  pyramid  stands. 

The  pyramid  is  a  sign  and  a  witness  that  big  tombstones  are  not  the 
best  way  of  keeping  one's  self  affectionately  remembered.  This  pyr- 

gft 


434  THE  LESSON  OF  THE  PYRAMID. 

amid  and  the  sixty-nine  other  pyramids  still  standing  were  built  for 
sepulchres — all  this  great  pile  of  granite  and  limestone  by  which  we 
stand  to-day,  to  cover  the  memory  of  a  dead  king.  It  was  the  great 
Westminster  Abbey  of  the  ancients.  Some  say  that  Cheops  was  the 
king  who  built  this  pyramid  ;  but  this  is  uncertain.  Who  was  Cheops 
anyhow  ?  All  that  the  world  knows  about  him  could  be  told  in  a  few 
sentences.  The  only  thing  certain  is  that  he  was  bad,  and  that  he 
shut  up  the  temples  of  worship,  and  that  he  was  hated  so  that  th*» 
Egyptians  were  glad  when  he  was  dead. 

This  pyramid  of  rock  seven  hundred  and  forty  feet  each  side  of  the 
square  base,  and  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high,  wins  for  him  no 
respect.  If  a  bone  of  his  arm  or  foot  had  been  found  in  the  sarcoph- 
agus beneath  the  pyramid,  it  would  have  excited  no  more  veneration 
than  the  skeleton  of  a  camel  bleaching  on  the  Libyan  desert ;  yea,  less 
veneration  ;  for,  when  I  saw  a  carcass  of  a  camel  by  the  roadside  on 
the  way  to  Memphis,  I  said  to  myself,  "  Poor  thing  !  I  wonder  of  what 
it  died  !"  We  say  nothing  against  the  marble  and  bronze  of  the  Necrop- 
olis. Let  all  that  sculpture  and  florescence  and  arborescence  can 
do  for  the  places  of  the  dead  be  done,  if  means  will  allow  it.  But  if, 
after  one  is  dead,  there  is  nothing  left  to  remind  the  world  of  him  but 
some  pieces  of  stone,  there  is  but  little  left. 

While  there  seems  to  be  no  practical  use  for  post  mortem  considera- 
tion later  than  the  time  of  one's  great-grandchildren,  yet  no  one  wants 
to  be  forgotten  as  soon  as  the  obsequies  are  over.  This  pyramid, 
which  Isaiah  says  is  a  sign  and  a  witness,  demonstrates  that  neither 
limestone  nor  red  granite  are  competent  to  keep  one  affectionately 
remembered ;  neither  can  bronze,  neither  can  Parian  marble,  neither 
can  Aberdeen  granite  do  the  work.  But  there  is  something  out  of 
which  to  build  an  everlasting  monument,  and  that  will  keep  one  freshly 
remembered  four  thousand  years — yea,  forever  and  ever.  It  does  not 
stand  in  marble  yards.  It  is  not  to  be  purchased  at  mourning  stores. 
Yet  it  is  to  be  found  in  every  neighborhood,  plenty  of  it,  inexhaustible 
quantities  of  it.  It  is  the  greatest  stuff  in  the  universe  to  build  monu- 
ments out  of.  I  refer  to  the  memories  of  those  to  whom  we  can  do  a 
kindness,  the  memories  of  those  whose  struggles  we  may  alleviate,  the 
memories  of  those  whose  souls  we  may  save. 

I  said  that  the  dominant  color  of  the  pyramid  was  gray,  but  in  cer- 
tain lights  it  seems  to  shake  off  the  gray  of  centuries  and  become  a 


435 


436  THE  LESSON  OF  THE  PYRAMID. 

blond,  and  the  silver  turns  to  the  golden.  It  covers  thirteen  acres  of 
ground.  What  an  antiquity  !  It  was  at  least  two  thousand  years  old 
when  the  baby  Christ  was  carried  within  sight  of  it  by  His  fugitive  par- 
ents, Joseph  and  Mary.  The  storms  of  forty  centuries  have  drenched 
it,  bombarded  it,  shadowed  it,  flashed  upon  it,  but  there  it  stands, 
ready  to  take  another  forty  centuries  of  atmospheric  attack  if  the  world 
should  continue  to  exist.  The  oldest  buildings  of  the  earth  are  juniors 
to  this  great  senior  of  the  centuries. 

Herodotus  says  that  for  ten  years  preparations  were  being  made  for 
the  building  of  this  pyramid.  It  has  eighty-two  million  one  hundred 
and  eleven  thousand  cubic  feet  of  masonry.  One  hundred  thousand 
workman  at  one  time  toiled  in  its  erection.  To  bring  the  stone  from 
the  quarries  a  causeway  sixty  feet  wide  was  built.  The  top  stones 
were  lifted  by  machinery  such  as  the  world  knows  nothing  of  to-day. 
It  is  seven  hundred  and  forty-six  feet  each  side  of  the  square  base. 
The  structure  is  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high  ;  higher  than  the 
cathedrals  of  Cologne,  Strasburg,  Rouen,  St.  Peter's,  and  St.  Paul's. 
No  surprise  to  me  that  it  was  put  at  the  head  of  the  seven  wonders  of 
the  world.  It  has  a  subterraneous  room  of  fed  granite  called  the 
"king's  chamber,"  and  another  room  called  the  "queen's  chamber," 
and  the  probability  is  that  there  are  other  rooms  yet  unexplored. 

The  evident  design  of  the  architect  was  to  make  these  rooms  as  in- 
accessible as  possible.  After  all  the  work  of  exploration  and  all  the 
digging  and  blasting,  if  you  would  enter  these  subterraneous  rooms, 
you  must  go  through  a  passage  only  three  feet  eleven  inches  high  and 
less  than  four  feet  wide.  A  sarcophagus  of  red  granite  stands  down 
under  the  mountain  of  masonry.  The  sarcophagus  could  not  have 
been  carried  in  after  the  pyramid  was  built.  It  must  have  been  put 
there  before  the  structure  was  reared.  Probably  in  that  sarcophagus 
once  lay  a  wooden  coffin  containing  a  dead  king,  but  time  has  de- 
stroyed the  coffin  and  destroyed  the  last  vestige  of  human  remains. 

For  three  thousand  years  this  sepulchral  room  was  unopened,  and 
would  have  been  until  to-day  probably  unopened  had  not  a  supersti- 
tious impression  got  abroad  that  the  heart  of  the  pyramid  was  filled  with 
silver  and  gold  and  diamonds,  and  under  Al  Mamoun  an  excavating 
party  went  to  work,  and  having  bored  and  blasted  through  a  hundred 
feet  of  rock,  they  found  no  opening  ahead,  and  were  about  to  give  up 
the  attempt  when  the  workmen  heard  a  stone  roll  down  into  a  seem- 


BIRD'S  EYE  VIEW  OF  EGYPT 


437 


CLEANSED  FROM  UNRIGHTEOUSNESS 


438 


THE  LESSON  OF  THE  PYRAMID.  43C 

ingly  hollow  place,  and  encouraged  by  that  they  resumed  their  work 
and  came  into  the  underground  rooms. 

The  disappointment  of  the  workmen  in  finding  the  sarcophagus 
empty  of  all  silver  and  gold  and  precious  stones  was  so  great  that  they 
would  have  assassinated  Al  Mamoun,  who  employed  them,  had  he  not 
hid  in  another  part  of  the  pyramid  as  much  silver  and  gold  as  would 
pay  them  for  their  work  at  ordinary  rates  of  wages  and  induced  them 
there  to  dig  till  they  to  their  surprise  came  upon  adequate  compensation. 

I  wonder  not  that  this  mountain  of  limestone  and  red  granite  has  been 
the  fascination  of  scholars,  of  scientists,  of  intelligent  Christians  in  all 
ages.  Sir  John  Herschel,  the  astronomer,  said  he  thought  it  had  as- 
tronomical significance.  The  wise  men  who  accompanied  Napoleon's 
army  into  Egypt  went  into  profound  study  of  the  pyramid.  In  1865 
Professor  Smyth  and  his  wife  lived  in  the  empty  tombs  near  by  the 
pyramid  that  they  might  be  as  continuously  as  possible  close  to  the  pyr- 
amid which  they  were  investigating.  The  pyramid,  built  more  than 
four  thousand  years  ago,  being  a  complete  geometrical  figure,  wise  men 
have  concluded  it  must  have  been  divinely  constructed.  Men  came 
through  thousands  of  years  to  fine  architecture,  to  music,  to  painting, 
but  this  was  perfect  at  the  world's  start,  and  God  must  have  directed  it. 

A    VOICE    FROM    THE    AGES. 

As,  in  Egypt  that  December  afternoon,  1889,  exhausted  in  body, 
mind  and  soul,  we  mounted  to  return  to  Cairo,  we  took  our  last  look 
of  the  pyramid  at  Gizeh.  And  you  know  there  is  something  in  the 
air  toward  evening  that  seems  productive  of  solemn  and  tender  emo- 
tion, and  that  great  pyramid  seemed  to  be  humanized,  and  with  lips  of 
stone  it  seemed  to  speak  and  cry  out : 

" Hear  me,  man,  mortal  and  immortal!  My  voice  is  the  voice  of 
Cod.  He  designed  me.  Isaiah  said  I  would  be  a  sign  and  a  witness, 
i  saw  Moses  when  he  was  a  lad.  I  witnessed  the  long  procession  of 
the,  Israelites  as  they  started  to  cross  the  Red  Sea,  and  Pharaoh's  host. 
in  pursuit  of  them.  The  falcons  and  the  eagles  of  many  centuries 
have  brushed  my  brow.  I  stood  here  when  Cleopatra's  barge  landed 
with  her  sorceries,  and  Hypatia  for  her  virtues  was  slain  in  yonder 
streets.  Alexander  the  Great,  Seostris  and  Ptolemy  admired  my  pro- 
portions. Herodotus  and  Pliny  sounded  my  praise.  I  am  old,  I  am 
very  old.  For  thousands  of  years  I  have  watched  the  coming  and 


440  THE  LESSON  OF  THE  PYRAMID. 

going  of  generations.  They  tarry  only  a  little  while,  but  they  make 
everlasting  impression.  I  bear  on  my  side  the  mark  of  the  trowel  and 
chisel  of  those  who  more  than  four  thousand  years  ago  expired.  Beware 
what  you  do,  O  man  !  for  what  thou  dost  will  last  long  after  thou  art  dead ! 
If  thou  wouldst  be  affectionately  remembered  after  thou  art  gone,  trust 
not  to  any  earthly  commemoration.  I  have  not  one  word  to  say  about 
any  astronomer  who  studied  the  heavens  from  my  heights,  or  any  king 
who  was  sepulchred  in  my  bosom.  I  am  slowly  passing  away.  I  am 
a  dying  pyramid.  I  shall  yet  lie  down  in  .the  dust  of  the  plain,  and  the 
sands  of  the  desert  shall  cover  me,  or  when  the  earth  goes  I  will  go. 
But  you  are  immortal.  The  feet  with  which  you  climbed  my  sides  to- 
day will  turn  to  dust,  but  you  have  a  soul  that  will  outlast  me  and  all 
my  brotherhood  of  pyramids.  Live  for  eternity  !  Live  for  God  !  With 
the  shadows  of  the  evening  now  falling  from  my  side,  I  pronounce  up- 
on you  a  benediction.  Take  it  with  you  across  the  Mediterranean. 
Take  it  with  you  across  the  Atlantic.  God  only  is  great !  Let  all  the 
earth  keep  silence  before  Him.  Amen  !" 

And  then  the  lips  of  granite  hushed,  and  the  great  giant  of  masonry 
wrapped  himself  again  in  the  silence  of  ages,  and  as  I  rode  away  in 
the  gathering  twilight,  the  verse  ran  through  my  mind : 

Wondrous  Egypt !  I^and  of  ancient  pomp  and  pride, 

Where  Beauty  walks  by  hoary  Ruin's  side, 
Where  plenty  reigns  and  still  the  seasons  smile, 

And  rolls— rich  gift  of  God — exhaustless  Nile. 


THE  VACANT  CHAIR 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAUE 


IN  almost  every  house  the  articles  of  furniture  take  a  living  person* 
ality.  That  picture — a  stranger  would  not  see  anything  remark- 
able either  in  its  design  or  execution,  but — it  is  more  to  you  than 
all  the  pictures  of  the  Louvre  and  the  Luxembourg.  You  remember 
who  bought  it,  and  who  admired  it.  And  that  hymn  book — you 
remember  who  sang  out  of  it.  And  that  cradle —  you  remember  who 
rocked  it.  And  that  Bible — you  remember  who  read  out  of  it.  And 
that  bed — you  remember  who  slept  in  it.  And  that  room — you 
remember  who  died  in  it.  But  there  is  nothing  in  all  your  house  so 
eloquent  and  so  mighty  voiced  as  the  vacant  chair.  Millions  have 
gazed  and  wept  at  John  Quincy  Adams'  vacant  chair  in  the  House  of 
Representatives,  and  at  Wilson's  vacant  chair  in  the  vice-presidency, 
and  at  Henry  Clay's  vacant  chair  in  the  American  senate,  and  at  Prince 
Albert's  vacant  chair  in  Windsor  Castle,  and  at  Thiers'  vacant  chair  in 
the  councils  of  the  French  nation.  But  all  these  chairs  are  unimport- 
ant to  you  as  compared  with  the  vacant  chairs  in  your  own  household. 
Have  these  chairs  any  lesson  for  us  to  learn  ?  Are  we  any  better 
men  and  women  than  when  they  first  addressed  us  ? 

THE  FATHER'S  CHAIR. 

First  I  point  out  to  you  the  father's  vacant  chair.  Old  men  always 
like  to  sit  in  the  same  place  and  in  the  same  chair.  They  somehow 
feel  more  at  home,  and  some  times  when  you  are  in  their  place  and 
they  come  into  the  room  you  jump  up  suddenly  and  say,  "Here, 
father,  here's  your  chair."  The  probability  is  it  is  an  armchair,  for  he 
is  not  so  strong  as  he  once  was,  and  he  needs  a  little  upholding. 
Perhaps  a  cane  chair  and  old-fashioned  apparel,  for  though  you  may 

441 


442  THE    VACANT  CHAIR. 

have  suggested  some  improvement,  father  does  not  want  any  of  your 
nonsense.  Grandfather  never  had  much  admiration  for  new  fangled 
notions. 

I  sat  at  the  table  of  one  of  my  parishioners  in  a  former  congrega- 
tion; an  aged  man  was  at  the  table,  and  the  son  was  presiding.  The 
father  somewhat  abruptly  addressed  the  son  and  said,  "My  son,  don't 
try  now  to  show  off  because  the  minister  is  here  !  "  Your  father  never 
liked  any  new  customs  or  manners,  he  preferred  the  old  way  of  doing 
things,  and  he  never  looked  so  happy  as  when  with  his  eyes  closed,  he 
sat  in  the  armchair  in  the  corner.  From  the  wrinkled  brow  to  the  tip 
of  the  slippers,  what  placidity  !  The  wave  of  the  past  years  of  his  life 
broke  at  the  foot  of  that  chair.  Perhaps  sometimes  he  was  a  little 
impatient,  and  sometimes  told  the  same  story  twice, — but  over  that 
old  chair  how  many  blessed  memories  hover !  I  hope  you  did  not 
crowd  that  old  chair,  and  that  it  did  not  get  very  much  in  the  way. 

Sometimes  the  old  man's  chair  gets  very  much  in  the  way,  especially 
if  he  has  been  so  unwise  as  to  make  over  all  his  property  to  his 
children,  with  the  understanding  that  they  are  to  take  care  of  him.  I 
have  seen  in  such  cases  children  crowd  the  old  man's  chair  to  the 
door,  and  then  crowd  it  clear  into  the  street,  and  then  crowd  it  into 
the  poor  house,  and  keep  on  crowding  it  until  the  old  man  fell  out  of 
it  into  his  grave. 

But  your  father's  chair  was  a  sacred  place.  The  children  used  to 
climb  up  on  the  rungs  of  it  for  a  good-night  kiss,  and  the  longer  he 
stayed  the  better  you  liked  it.  But  that  chair  has  been  vacant  now  for 
some  time.  The  furniture  dealer  would  not  give  you  fifty  cents  for  it, 
but  it  is  a  throne  of  influence  in  your  domestic  circle.  I  saw  in  the 
French  palace,  and  in  the  throne  room,  the  chair  that  Napoleon  used 
to  occupy.  It  was  a  beautiful  chair,  but  the  most  significant  part  of  it 
was  the  letter  "N"  embroidered  into  the  back  of  the  chair  in  purple 
and  gold.  And  your  father's  old  chair  sits  in  the  throne  room  of  your 
heart,  and  your  affections  have  embroidered  into  the  back  of  that  old 
chair  in  purple  and  gold  the  letter  "  F."  Have  all  the  prayers  of 
that  old  chair  been  answered  ?  Have  all  the  counsels  of  that  old  chair 
been  practiced  ?  Speak  out,  old  armchair  ! 

History  tells  us  of  an  old  man  whose  three  sons  were  victors  in  the 
Olympic  games,  and  when  they  came  back  these  three  sons,  with  their 
garlands,  put  them  on  the  father's  brow,  and  the  old  man  was  so 


THE   VACANT  CHAIR.  443 

rejoiced  at  the  victories  of  his  three  children  that  he  fell  dead  in  their 
arms.  And  are  you,  oh  man,  going  to  bring  a  wreath  of  joy  and 
Christian  usefulness  and  put  it  on  your  father's  brow,  or  on  the 
vacant  chair,  or  on  the  memory  of  the  one  departed  ? 

THE  MOTHER'S  CHAIR. 

I  go  a  little  further  on  in  your  house  and  I  find  the  mother's  chair. 
It  is  very  apt  to  be  a  rocking  chair.  She  had  so  many  cares  and 
troubles  to  soothe  that  it  must  have  rockers.  I  remember  it  well;  it 
was  an  old  chair,  and  the  rockers  were  almost  worn  out,  for  I  was 
the  youngest,  and  the  chair  had  rocked  the  whole  family.  It  made  a 
creaking  noise  as  it  moved;  but  there  was  music  in  the  sound.  It  was 
just  high  enough  to  allow  us  children  to  put  our  heads  into  her  lap. 
That  was  the  bank  where  we  deposited  all  our  hurts  and  worries. 
Ah !  what  a  chair  that  was.  It  was  different  from  the  father's  chair; 
it  was  entirely  different.  You  ask  me  how  ?  I  cannot  tell;  but  we 
all  felt  that  it  was  different.  Perhaps  there  was  about  this  chair  more 
gentleness,  more  tenderness,  more  grief  when  we  had  done  wrong. 
When  we  were  wayward  father  scolded,  but  mother  cried.  It  was 
a  very  wakeful  chair.  In  the  sick  days  of  children  other  chairs  could 
not  keep  awake;  that  chair  always  kept  awake — kept  easily  awake. 
The  chair  knew  all  the  old  lullabies  and  all  those  wordless  songs  which 
mothers  sing  to  their  sick  children — songs  in  which  all  pity  and  com- 
passion and  sympathetic  influence  are  combined. 

That  old  chair  has  stopped  rocking  for  a  good  many  years.  It  may 
be  set  up  in  the  loft  or  the  garret,  but  it  holds  a  queenly  power  yet. 
When  at  midnight  you  went  into  that  grog  shop  to  get  the  intoxicating 
draught,  did  you  not  hear  a  voice  that  said,  "  My  son,  why  go  in 
there  ?"  And  louder  than  the  boisterous  encore  of  the  place  of  sinful 
amusement,  a  voice  saying,  "My  son,  what  do  you  do  here?"  And 
when  you  went  into  the  house  of  abandonment,  a  voice  saying,  "  What 
would  your  mother  do  if  she  knew  you  were  here?"  And  you  were 
provoked  with  yourself,  and  you  charged  yourself  with  superstition 
and  fanaticism,  and  your  head  got  hot  with  your  own  thoughts,  and 
you  went  home  and  you  went  to  bed,  and  no  sooner  had  you  touched 
the  bed  than  a  voice  said:  "What!  a  prayerless  pillow?  Man  !  what 
is  the  matter?"  This.  You  are  too  near  your  mother's  rocking  chair. 

"  Oh,  phsaw  !"  you  say.    "There's  nothing  in  that.    I'm  five  hundred 


444 


THE    VACAN7  CHAIR. 


miles  off  from  where  I  was  born.  I'm  three  hundred  miles  off  from 
the  church  whose  bell  was  the  first  music  I  ever  heard."  I  cannot  help 
that.  You  are  too  near  your  mother's  rocking  chair.  "Oh,"  you  say, 
"there  can't  be  anything  in  that.  That  chair  has  been  vacant  a  great 
while."  I  cannot  help  that.  It  is  all  the  mightier  for  that.  It  is 
omnipotent,  that  vacant  mother's  chair.  It  whispers,  it  speaks,  it 
weeps,  it  carols,  it  mourns,  it  prays,  it  warns,  it  thunders.  A  young 
man  went  off  and  broke  his  mother's  heart,  and  while  he  was  away 
from  home  his  mother  died,  and  the  telegraph  brought  the  son.  He 
came  into  the  room  where  she  lay  and  looked  upon  her  face,  and 
he  cried  out:  "Oh,  mother,  mother,  what  your  life  could  not  do  your 
death  shall  effect!  This  moment  I  give  my  heart  to  God."  And  he 
kept  his  promise.  Another  victory  for  the  vacant  chair. 

THE  INVALID'S  CHAIR. 

I  go  on  a  little  further,  and  I  come  to  the  invalid's  chair.  What ! 
How  long  have  you  been  sick  ?  "  Oh,  I  have  been  sick  ten,  twenty, 
thirty  years."  Is  it  possible  ?  What  a  story  of  endurance.  There  are 
in  many  of  the  families  of  my  congregation  these  invalid's  chairs.  The 
occupants  of  them  think  they  are  doing  no  good  in  the  world,  but  that 
invalid's  chair  is  the  mighty  pulpit  from  which  all  these  years  they  have 
been  preaching  trust  in  God.  The  first  time  I  preached  at  Lakeside, 
Ohio,  amid  the  throngs  present,  there  was  nothing  that  so  much 
impressed  me  as  the  spectacle  of  just  one  face — the  face  of  an  invalid 
who  was  wheeled  in  on  her  chair.  I  said  to  her  afterward  :  "  Madam, 
how  long  have  you  been  prostrated  ?"  for  she  was  lying  flat  in  the 
chair.  "Oh!  she  replied,  <(I  have  been  this  way  fifteen  years."  I 
said,  "Do  you  suffer  very  much?"  "Oh,  yes,"  she  said,  "  I  suffer 
very  much;  I  suffer  all  the  time  ;  part  of  the  time  I  was  blind.  I 
always  suffer."  "Well,"  I  said,  "can  you  keep  your  courage  up?" 
"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said,  "  I  am  happy,  very  happy  indeed."  Her  face 
showed  it.  She  looked  the  happiest  of  any  one  on  the  ground. 

Oh,  what  a  means  of  grace  to  the  world,  the  invalid  chairs.  On 
that  field  of  human  suffering  the  grace  of  God  gets  its  victory. 
Edward  Payson,  the  invalid,  and  Richard  Baxter,  the  invalid,  and 
Robert  Hall,  the  invalid,  and  the  ten  thousand  of  whom  the  world  has 
never  heard,  but  of  whom  all  heaven  is  cognizant.  The  most  con- 
spicuous thing  on  earth  for  God's  eye  and  the  eye  of  angels  to  rest 


THE    VACANT  CHAIR.  445 

ort,  is  not  a  throne  of  earthly  power,  but  it  is  the  invalid's  chair. 
Oh,  these  men  and  women  who  are  always  suffering,  but  never  com- 
plaining— these  victims  of  spinal  disease,  and  neuralgic  torture,  and 
rheumatic  excruciation  will  answer  to  the  roll  call  of  the  martyrs, 
and  rise  to  the  martyr's  throne,  and  will  wave  the  martyr's  palm. 

But  when  one  of  these  invalid  chairs  becomes  vacant  how  suggestive 
it  is  ?  No  more  bolstering  up  of  the  weary  head.  No  more  chang- 
ing from  side  to  side  to  get  an  easy  position.  No  more  use  of  the 
bandage  and  the  cataplasm  and  the  prescription.  That  invalid  chair 
may  be  folded  up  or  taken  apart,  or  set  away,  but  it  will  never  lose 
its  queenly  power,  it  will  always  preach  of  trust  in  God  and  cheerful 
submission.  Suffering  all  ended  now.  The  joy  of  heaven  has  taken 
its  place. 

THE  CHILD'S  CHAIR. 

I  pass  on  and  find  one  more  vacant  chair.  It  is  a  high-chair. 
It  is  the  child's  chair.  If  that  chair  be  occupied  I  think  it  is  the  most 
potent  chair  in  all  the  household.  All  the  chairs  wait  on  it ;  all  the 
chairs  are  turned  toward  it.  That  is  a  strange  house  that  can  be  dull 
with  a  child  it  it.  How  that  child  breaks  up  the  hard  worldliness  of 
the  place  and  keeps  you  young  to  sixty,  seventy  and  eighty  years  of 
age.  If  you  have  no  child  of  your  own,  adopt  one  ;  it  will  open  heaven 
to  your  soul.  It  will  pay  its  way.  Its  crowing  in  the  morning  will 
give  the  day  a  cheerful  starting,  and  its  glee  at  night  will  give  the 
day  a  cheerful  close.  You  do  not  like  children  ?  Then  you  had 
better  stay  out  of  heaven,  for  there  are  so  many  of  them  there  they 
would  fairly  make  you  crazy.  Only  about  five  hundred  millions  of 
them.  The  old  crusty  Pharisees  told  the  mothers  to  keep  the  children 
away  from  Christ.  "You  bother  Him,"  they  said:  "you  trouble  the 
Master."  Trouble  Him  !  He  has  filled  heaven  with  that  kind  of 
trouble. 

A  pioneer  in  California  says  that  for  the  first  year  or  two  after  his 
residence  in  Sierra  Nevada  county  there  was  not  a  single  child  in  all 
the  reach  of  a  hundred  miles.  But  the  Fourth  of  July  came,  and 
the  miners  were  gathered  together  and  they  were  celebrating  the 
Fourth  with  oration  and  poem  and  a  boisterous  brass  band.  While 
the  band  was  playing  an  infant's  voice  was  heard  crying,  and  all  the 
miners  were  startled,  and  the  swarthy  men  began  to  think  of  their 


446 


THE   VACANT  CHAIR. 


homes  on  the  eastern  coast,  and  of  their  wives  and  children  far  away, 
and  their  hearts  were  thrilled  with  home-sickness  as  they  hea/d  the 
babe  cry.  But  the  music  went  on,  and  the  child  cried  louder  and 
louder,  and  the  brass  band  played  louder  and  louder,  trying  to  drown 
out  the  infantile  interruption,  when  a  swarthy  miner,  the  tears  rolling 
down  his  face,  got  up  and  shook  his  fist  and  said,  "Stop  that  noisy 
band,  and  give  the  baby  a  chance."  Oh,  there  was  pathos  as  well  as 
good  cheer  in  it.  There  is  nothing  to  arouse  and  melt  and  subdue 
the  soul  like  a  child's  voice.  But  when  it  goes  away  from  you  the 
high-chair  becomes  a  higher  chair  and  there  is  desolation  all  about 
you. 

In  three-fourths  of  the  homes  of  my  congregation  there  is  a  vacant 
high-chair.  Somehow  you  never  get  over  it,  There  is  no  one  to  put 
to  bed  at  night;  no  one  to  ask  strange  questions  about  God  and 
heaven.  Oh,  what  is  the  use  of  that  high-chair?  It  is  to  call  you 
higher.  What  a  drawing  upward  it  is  to  have  children  in  heaven ! 
And  then  it  is  such  a  preventive  against  sin.  If  a  father  is  going  away 


GOD  s  ACRE. 

into  sin  he  leaves  his  living  children  with  their  mother;  but  if  a  father 
is  going  away  into  sin  what  is  he  going  to  do  with  his  dead  children 
floating  about  him  and  hovering  over  his  every  wayward  step.  Oh, 
speak  out,  vacant  high  chair,  and  say:  "  Father,  come  back  from  sin; 
mother,  come  back  from  worldliness.  I  am  watching  you.  I  am  wait- 
ing for  you. 


THE   VACANT  CHAIR.  447 

NO  VACANT    CHAIRS    IN    HEAVEN. 

1  thank  God  there  will  be  no  vacant  chairs  in  heaven.  There  we 
5hall  meet  again  and  talk  over  our  earthly  heart-breaks.  How  much 
you  have  been  through  since  you  saw  them  last !  On  the  shining 
shore  you  will  talk  it  all  over.  The  heart-aches.  The  loneliness.  The 
sleepless  nights.  The  weeping  until  you  had  no  more  power  to  weep, 
because  the  heart  was  withered  and  dried  up.  Story  of  empty  cradle 
and  a  little  shoe  only  half  worn  out  never  to  be  worn  again,  just  the 
shape  of  the  foot  that  once  pressed  it.  And  dreams  when  you  thought 
the  departed  had  come  back  again,  and  the  room  seemed  bright  with 
their  faces,  and  you  started  up  to  greet  them,  and  in  the  effort  the 
dream  broke  and  you  found  yourself  standing  in  the  midnight — alone. 

Talking  it  all  over,  and  then,  hand  in  hand,  walking  up  and  down 
in  the  light.  No  sorrow,  no  tears,  no  death.  Oh,  heaven  !  beautiful 
heaven  !  Heaven  where  our  friends  are.  Heaven  where  we  expect 
to  be.  In  the  east  they  take  a  cage  of  birds  and  bring  it  to  the  tomb 
of  the  dead,  and  then  they  open  the  door  of  the  cage,  and  the  birds 
flying  out,  sing.  And  I  would  to-day  bring  a  cage  of  Christian  con- 
solations to  the  grave  of  your  loved  ones,  and  I  would  open  the  door 
and  let  them  fill  all  the  air  with  the  music  of  their  voices. 

Oh,  how  they  bound  in  these  spirits  before  the  throne  !  Some  shout 
with  gladness.  Some  break  forth  into  uncontrollable  weeping  for 
joy.  Some  stand  speechless  in  their  shock  of  delight.  They  sing. 
They  quiver  with  excessive  gladness.  They  gaze  on  the  temples,  on 
the  palaces,  on  the  waters,  on  each  other.  They  weave  their  joy  into 
garlands,  they  spring  it  into  triumphal  arches,  they  strike  it  on  timbrels, 
and  then  all  the  loved  ones  gather  in  a  great  circle  around  the 
throne  of  God — fathers,  mothers,  brothers,  sisters,  sons  and  daughters, 
lovers  and  friends,  hand  to  hand  around  the  throne  of  God — the  circle 
ever  widening — hand  to  hand,  joy  to  joy,  jubilee  to  jubilee,  victory 
to  victory,  "until  the  day  break  and  the  shadows  flee  away.  Turn 
thou  my  beloved,  and  be  like  a  roe  or  a  young  hart  upon  the 
mountains  of  Bethel." 

-    THE    PILLAR   OF   THE   THRONE. 

The  day  will  arrive  when  all  the  great  Christian  expeditions  shall 
come  back  in  the  presence  of  many  worlds.     Not  only  the  leaders  but 


443  THE  VACANT  CHAIR, 

the  led,  not  only  the  commanders  but  the  commanded,  not  only  the 
celebrated  but  the  obscure,  shall  get  celestial  and  divine  recognition. 
As  Christ,  amid  the  eclat  of  heaven,  introduces  his  friends,  He 
will  say :  "  This  is  the  woman  that  gave  a  cup  of  cool  water  to  the 
thirsty  traveller  ;  this  is  the  child  that  read  the  Scriptures  to  her  blind 
mother  ;  this  is  the  nurse  that  rocked  the  sick  child's  cradle  ;  this  is  the 
female  clerk  of  the  store  who  patiently  endured  the  insolence  of  cus- 
tomers ;  this  is  the  mother  who  brought  up  her  children  for  God  ;  this 
is  the  man  who  forsook  not  his  religion  amid  the  ridicule  of  the  hat- 

o 

factory  ;  this  is  the  fireman  who  fell  dead  in  trying  to  get  a  child  out 
of  the  third  story  of  a  burning  building  ;  this  is  the  sailor  of  the  Frank- 
lin search  party  who,  kneeling  in  the  Artie  storm,  prayed  that  his  sin 
might  be  made  whiter  than  snow." 

And  then  Christ,  waving  his  hand  over  "a  great  multitude  that  no 
man  can  number,"  will  say,  "They  were  cold,  they  were  sick,  they 
were  poor,  they  were  despised,  they  were  wronged,  they  came  out  of 
great  tribulation,  and  had  their  robes  washed  and  made  white  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb."  That  day  will  be  the  ratification  of  everything, 
and  those  who  expected  to  take  back  seats  in  heaven  will  be  called 
to  take  front  seats,  and  those  who  would  have  been  satisfied  to  occupy 
a  footstool  will  be  awarded  a  throne,  and  those  who  had  no  ambition 
except  to  get  inside  the  shining  gates  will  be  made  rulers  over  many 
cities. 


THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


THE  Island  of  Malta,  the  Melita  of  Scripture,  which  has  always 
been  an  important  commercial  center,  belonging  at  different 
times  to  Phoenicia,  to  Greece,  to  Rome,  to  Arabia,  to  Spain,  to 
France,  now  belongs  to  England.  The  area  of  the  island  is  about  100 
square  miles.  It  is  in  the  Mediterranean  sea,  and  of  such  clarity 
of  atmosphere  that  Mount  Etna,  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles  away 
can  be  distinctly  seen.  The  island  is  gloriously  memorable  because 
the  Knights  of  Malta  for  a  long  while  ruled  there,  but  is  most  famou' 
because  of  the  apostolic  shipwreck. 

The  bestormed  vessel  on  which  Paul  sailed  had  "  laid  to  "  on  the 
starboard  tack,  and  the  wind  was  blowing  east-northeast  and  tne 
vessel  drifting  probably  a  mile  and  a  half  an  hour,  ere  she  struck  at 
what  is  now  called  St.  Paul's  bay.  Practical  sailors  have  taken  up 
the  Bible  account  and  decided  beyond  controversy  the  place  of  the 
shipwreck.  But  the  island  which  has  so  rough  a  coast  is  for  the 
most  part  a  garden.  Richest  fruits  and  a  profusion  of  honey  charac- 
terized it  in  Paul's  time  as  well  as  now.  The  finest  oranges,  figs  and 
olives  grow  there.  When  Paul  and  his  comrades  crawled  up  on  the 
beach,  saturated  with  the  salt  water,  hungry  from  long  abstinence  from 
food,  and  chilled  to  the  bone,  the  islanders, — though  called  barbarians 
because  they  could  not  speak  Greek, — opened  their  doors  to  the  ship- 
wrecked unfortunates. 

Everything  had  gone  to  the  bottom  of  the  deep,  and  the  barefooted, 
bareheaded  apostle  and  ship's  crew  were  in  a  condition  to  appreciate 
hospitality.  I  found  about  twenty-five  such  men  a  few  seasons  ago 
in  the  life  station  near  Easthampton,  Long  Island.  They  had  got 
ashore  in  the  night  from  the  sea,  and  not  a  hat  nor  shoe  had  they  left. 

449 


45°  THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS. 

They  found  out,  as  Paul  and  his  fellow  voyagers  found  out,  that  the 
sea  is  the  roughest  of  all  robbers. 

The  shipwrecked  crew  found  themselves  thus  ashore  on  Malta,  and 
around  a  hot  fire  drying  themselves,  and  with  the  best  provision  the 
islanders  could  offer  them.  And  they  went  into  government  quarters 
for  three  days  to  recuperate,  Publius,  the  ruler,  inviting  them,  although 
he  had  severe  sickness  in  the  house  at  that  time.  For  three  months 
they  staid  on  the  island,  watching  for  a  ship  and  putting  the  hospitality 
of  the  islanders  to  a  severe  test.  But  these  "barbarians"  endured 
the  test  satisfactorily,  and  it  is  recorded  for  all  the  ages  of  time  and 
eternity  to  read  and  hear  in  regard  to  the  inhabitants  of  Malta,  "  The 
barbarous  people  showed  us  no  little  kindness." 

KINDNESS    DEFINED. 

Kindness  !  What  a  great  word  that  is.  It  would  take  a  reed  as 
long  as  that  which  the  apocalyptic  angel  used  to  measure  heaven  to 
tell  the  length,  the  breadth,  the  height  of  that  munificent  word.  It  is  a 
favorite  Bible  word,  and  it  is  early  launched  in  the  book  of  Genesis, 
caught  up  in  the  book  of  Joshua,  embraced  in  the  book  of  Ruth,  sworn 
by  in  the  book  of  Samuel,  crowned  in  the  book  of  Psalms,  and 
enthroned  in  many  places  in  the  New  Testament.  Kindness  !  A 
word  no  more  gentle  than  mighty.  I  expect  it  will  wrestle  me  down 
before  I  get  through  with  it.  It  is  strong  enough  to  throw  an  archangel. 
But  it  will  be  well  for  us  to  stand  around  it  and  warm  ourselves  by  its 
glow  as  Paul  and  his  fellow  voyagers  stood  around  the  fire  on  the 
Island  of  Malta,  where  the  Maltese  made  themselves  immortal  by  the 
way  they  treated  these  victims  of  the  sea. 

Kindness !  All  definitions  of  that  multipotent  word  break  down 
half  w?.y.  You  say  it  is  clemency,  benignity,  generosity;  it  is  made  up 
of  good  wishes,  it  is  an  expression  of  beneficence,  it  is  a  contribution 
to  the  happiness  of  others.  Some  one  else  says:  "Why,  I  can  give 
you  a  definition  of  kindness.  It  is  sunshine  of  the  soul;  it  is  affection 
perennial,  it  is  a  crowning  grace,  it  is  the  combination  of  all  graces; 
it  is  compassion;  it  is  the  perfection  of  gentlemanliness  and  womanli- 
ness." Are  you  all  through?  You  have  made  a  dead  failure  in  your 
definition.  It  cannot  be  defined.  But  we  all  know  what  it  is,  and  we 
have  all  felt  its  power.  Some  of  you  may  have  felt  it  as  Paul  felt  it, 
on  some  coast  of  rock  as  the  sjiip  went  to  pieces,  but  more  of  us  have 


THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS.  45  » 

again  and  again  in  in  some  awful  stress  of  life  had  either  from  earth 
or  heaven  hands  stretched  out,  which  "showed  us  no  little  kindness." 

THE    QUALITY    OF    KINDNESS. 

There  is  kindness  of  disposition,  kindness  of  word,  kindness  of  act, 
and  there  is  Jesus  Christ,  the  impersonation  of  all  of  them.  Kindness  ! 
You  cannot  affect  it,  you  cannot  play  it  as  a  part,  you  cannot  enact  it, 
you  cannot  dramatize  it.  By  the  grace  of  God,  you  must  have  it  inside 
you,  an  everlasting  summer,  or  rather  a  combination  of  June  and 
October,  the  geniality  of  one  and  the  tonic  of  the  other.  It  cannot 
dwell  with  arrogance  or  spite  or  revenge  or  malevolence.  At  its  first 
appearance  in  the  soul  all  these  Amalekites  and  Gergishites  and 
Hittites  and  Jebusites  must  quit,  and  quit  forever. 

Kindness  wishes  everybody  well — every  man  well,  every  woman 
well,  every  child  well,  every  bird  well,  every  horse  well,  every  dog 
well,  every  cat  well.  Give  this  spirit  full  swing  and  you  would  have 
no  more  need  of  societies  for  prevention  of  cruelty  to  animals,  no 
more  need  of  protective  sewing  woman's  associations,  and  it  would 
dull  every  sword  until  it  would  not  cut  skin  deep,  and  unwheel  every 
battery  until  it  could  not  roll,  and  make  gunpowder  of  no  more  use 
in  the  world  except  for  rock  blasting  or  pyrotechnic  celebration. 

Kindness  is  a  spirit  divinely  implanted,  and  in  answer  to  prayer,  and 
then  to  be  sedulously  cultivated  until  it  fills  all  the  nature  with  a 
perfume  richer  and  more  pungent  than  mignonette.  If  you  put  a  tuft 
of  that  aromatic  beauty  behind  the  clock  on  the  mantel,  or  in  some 
corner  where  nobody  can  see  it,  you  find  people  walking  about  your 
room  looking  this  way  and  that,  and  you  ask  them,  "What  are  you 
looking  for? "  and  they  answer,  "Where  is  that  flower?"  So  if  one 
has  in  his  soul  this  infinite  sweetness  of  disposition,  its  perfume  will 
whelm  every  thing. 

THE   NOBLEST   REVENGE. 

I  do  not  want  to  leave  this  world  until  I  have  taken  vengeance 
upon  every  man  thAt  ever  did  me  a  wrong,  by  doing  him  a  kindness. 
In  most  of  such  cases  I  have  already  succeeded,  but  there  are  a  few 
malignants  whom  I  am  yet  pursuing,  and  I  shall  not  be  content  until  I 
have  in  some  wise  helped  them  or  benefited  them  or  blessed  them. 
Let  us  pray  for  this  spirit  of  kindness.  It  will  settle  a  thousand 


45 2  THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS. 

questions.  It  will  change  the  phase  of  everything.  It  will  mellow 
through  and  through  our  entire  nature.  It  will  transform  a  lifetime. 
It  is  not  a  feeling  gotten  up  for  occasions,  but  perennial. 

That  is  the  reason  I  like  petunias  better  than  morning-glories. 
They  look  very  much  alike,  and  if  I  should  put  in  your  hand  a  petunia 
and  a  morning-glory  you  could  hardly  tell  which  is  the  petunia  and 
which  the  morning-glory;  but  the  morning-glory  blooms  only  a  few 
hours  and  then  shuts  up  for  the  day,  while  the  petunia,  is  in  as  wide- 
spread aglow  at  twelve  o'clock  at  noon  and  six  o'clock  in  the  evening 
as  at  sunrise.  And  this  grace  of  kindnesss  is  not  spasmodic,  is  not 
intermittent,  is  not  for  a  little  while,  but  it  irradiates  the  whole  nature 
all  through  and  clear  on  till  the  sunset  of  our  earthly  existence. 

KINDNESS   THROUGH    CULTURE. 

Kindness  !  I  am  resolved  to  get  it.  Are  you  resolved  to  get  it  ?  It 
does  not  come  by  haphazard,  but  through  culture  under  divine  help. 
Thistles  grow  without  culture.  Rocky  mountain  sage  grass  grows 
without  culture.  Mullen  stalks  grow  without  culture.  But  that  great 
red  rose  in  the  conservatory,  with  leaves  packed  on  leaves,  deep  dyed 
as  though  it  had  been  obliged  to  fight  for  its  beauty  and  it  were  still 
reeking  with  the  carnage  of  the  battle — that  rose  needed  to  be  cultured 
and  through  long  years  its  floral  ancestors  were  cultured.  O  God, 
implant  kindness  in  all  our  souls,  and  then  give  us  grace  to  watch  it,  to 
enrich  it,  to  develop  it ! 

The  king  of  Prussia  had  presented  to  him  by  the  empress  of  Russia 
the  root  of  a  rare  flower,  and  it  was  put  in  the  royal  gardens  on  an 
island  where  the  head  gardener,  Herr  Fintelmann,  was  told  to  watch 
it,  and  one  day  it  put  forth  its  glory.  Three  days  of  every  week  the 
people  were  admitted  to  these  gardens,  and  a  young  man,  probably 
not  realizing  what  a  wrong  thing  he  was  doing,  plucked  this  flower  and 
put  it  in  his  buttonhole.  The  gardener  arrested  him  as  he  was  cross- 
ing at  the  ferry,  and  asked  the  king  to  throw  open  no  more  his 
gardens  to  the  public.  The  king  replied:  "  Shall  I  deny  to  the  thou- 
sands of  good  people  of  my  country  the  privilege  of  seeing  this  garden 
because  one  visitor  has  done  wrong  ?  No,  let  them  come  and  see  the 
beautiful  grounds." 

And  when  the  gardener  wished  to  give  the  king  the  name  of  the 
offender  who  had  taken  the  royal  flower,  he  said :  "  No,  my  memory  is 


tafe 


tuPNC 


*  A  wax; 


453 


454  THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS. 

very  tenacious,  and  I  do  not  want  to  have  in  my  mind  the  name  of  the 
offender,  lest  it  should  hinder  me  granting  him  a  favor  some  other 
time."  Now,  I  want  you  to  know  that  kindness  is  a  royal  flower,  and, 
blessed  be  God,  the  King  of  mercy  and  grace,  it  is  ordained  that, 
through  a  divine  gift  and  not  by  purloining,  we  may  pluck  this  royal 
flower,  which  we  wear  not  on  the  outside  of  our  nature,  but  wear  it  in 
our  soul  and  wear  it  forever,  its  radiance  and  aroma  not  more  wonder-, 
ful  for  time  than  wonderful  for  eternity. 

KINDNESS    IN    SPEECH. 

When  you  meet  any  one,  do  you  say  a  pleasant  thing  or  an  unpleas- 
ant ?  Do  you  tell  him  of  agreeable  things  you  have  heard  about  him, 
or  the  disagreeable  ?  When  he  leaves  you  does  he  feel  better  or  does 
he  feel  worse  ?  Oh,  the  -power  of  the  tongue  for  the  production  of 
happiness  or  misery !  One  would  think  from  the  way  the  tongue  is 
caged  in  we  might  take  the  hint  that  it  has  a  dangerous  power.  First 
it  is  chained  to  the  back  part  of  the  mouth  by  strong  muscle.  Then  it 
is  surrounded  by  the  teeth  of  the  lower  jaw,  so  many  ivory  bars  ;  and 
then  by  the  teeth  of  the  upper  jaw,  more  ivory  bars.  Then  outside  of 
all  are  the  two  lips,  with  the  power  o*"  compression  and  arrest.  Yet 
notwithstanding  these  four  imprisonments,  or  limitations,  how  many 
take  no  hint  in  regard  to  the  dangerous  power  of  the  tongue,  and  the 
results  are  laceration,  scarification  and  damnation. 

There  are  those  who,  if  they  know  a  good  thing  about  you  and  a 
bad  thing,  will  mention  the  bad  thing  and  act  as  though  they  had 
never  heard  the  good  thing.  Now,  there  are  two  sides  to  almost  every 
one's  character,  and  we  have  the  choice  of  overhauling  the  virtue  or 
the  vice.  We  can  greet  Paul  and  the  ship's  crew  as  they  come  up  the 
beach  of  Malta  with  the  words  :  "  What  a  sorry  looking  set  you  are  ! 
How  little  of  navigation  you  must  know  to  run  on  these  rocks  !  Didn't 
you  know  better  than  to  put  out  on  the  Mediterranean  this  wintry 
month !  It  was  not  much  of  a  ship  anyhow,  or  it  would  not  have  gone 
to  pieces  so  soon  as  this.  Well,  what  do  you  want  ?  We  have  hard 
enough  work  to  make  a  living  for  ourselves  without  having  thrust  on 
us  two  hundred  and  seventy  six  ragamuffins." 

Not  so  said  the  Maltese.  I  think  they  said:  "  Come  in  !  Sit  down 
by  the  fire  and  warm  yourselves  !  Glad  that  you  all  got  off  with  your 
lives.  Make  yourselves  at  home,  You  are_welcome  to  all  we  have 


JOSEPH   MAKING   HIMSELF   KNOWN   TO    HIS   BRETHREN.— Gen.  xiv:  4 

453 


THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS.  457 

until  some  ship  comes  in  sight  and  you  resume  your  voyage.  Here, 
let  me  put  a  bandage  on  your  forehead,  for  that  is  an  ugly  gash  you 
got  from  the  floating  timbers,  and  here  is  a  man  with  a  broken  arm. 
We  will  have  a  doctor  come  to  attend  to  this  fracture."  And  though 
for  three  months  the  kindness  went  on,  \ve  have  but  little  more  than 
this  brief  record,  "The  barbarous  people  showed  us  no  little  kindness." 

OPTIMIST    AND    PESSIMIST. 

Oh,  say  the  cordial  thing  !  Say  the  useful  thing  !  Say  the  hospitable 
thing  !  Say  the  helpful  thing  !  Say  the  Christian  thing  !  Say  the  kind 
thing! — I  admit  this  's  easier  for  some  temperaments  than  for  others. 
Some  are  born  pessimists,  and  some  are  born  optimists,  and  that 
demonstrates  itself  ?,K  through  everything.  It  is  a  cloudy  morning. 
You  meet  a  pessimist  and  you  say,  "What  weather  to-day?''  He  an- 
swers, "It's  going  to  storm,"  and  umbrella  under  arm  and  a  water- 
proof overcoat  show  that  he  is  honest  in  that  utterance.  On  the  same 
block,  a  minute  after,  you  meet  an  optimist,  and  you  say:  "  What 
weather  to-day?"  "Good  weather;  this  is  only  a  fog  and  will  soon 
scatter."  The  absence  of  umbrella  and  absence  of  waterproof  over- 
coat show  it  is  an  honest  utterance. 

On  your  way  at  noon  to  luncheon  you  meet  an  optimistic  merchant, 
and  you  say,  "  What  do  you  think  of  the  commercial  prospects?  "  and 
he  says:  "  Glorious.  Great  crops  must  bring  great  business.  We 
are  going  to  have  such  an  autumn  and  winter  of  prosperity  as  we  hava 
never  seen."  On  your  way  back  to  your  store  you  meet  a  pessimistic 
merchant.  "  What  do  you  think  of  the  commercial  prospects?"  you 
ask.  And  he  answers:  "  Well,  I  don't  know.  So  much  grain  will 
surfeit  the  country.  Farmers  have  more  bushels  but  less  prices,  and 
grain  gamblers  will  get  their  fist  in.  There  is  the  high  tariff  bill;  and 
the  hay  crop  is  short  in  some  places;  and  in  the  southern  part  of  Wis- 
consin they  had  a  hailstorm,  and  our  business  is  as  dull  as  it  evei 

tt 

was. 

You  will  find  the  same  difference  in  judgment  of  character.  A  man 
of  good  reputation  is  assailed  and  charged  with  some  evil  deed.  At 
the  first  story  the  pessimist  will  believe  in  guilt.  "The  papers  said  so, 
and  that's  enough.  Down  with  him  !  "  The  optimist  will  say:  "I  don't 
believe  a  word  of  it.  I  don't  think  that  a  man  that  has  been  as  useful 

and  seemingly  honest  for  twenty  years  could  have  got  off  the  track  like 
26 


458  THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS. 

that.  There  are  two  sides  to  this  story,  and  I  will  wait  to  hear  the 
other  side  before  I  condemn  him." 

My  reader,  if  you  are  by  nature  a  pessimist,  make  a  special  effort  by 
the  grace  of  God  to  extirpate  the  dolorous  and  the  hypercritical  from 
your  disposition.  Believe  nothing  against  anybody  until  the  wrong  is 
established  by  at  least  two  witnesses  of  integrity.  And  if  guilt  be 
proved,  find  out  the  extenuating  circumstances  if  there  are  any.  By 
pen,  by  voice,  in  public  and  in  private,  say  all  the  good  about  people 
you  can  think  of,  and  if  there  be  nothing  good,  then  tighten  the  chain 
of  muscle  on  the  back  end  of  your  tongue  and  keep  the  ivory  bars  of 
teeth  on  the  lower  jaw  and  the  ivory  bars  of  the  upper  jaw  locked,  and 
the  gate  of  your  lips  tightly  closed  and  your  tongue  shut  up. 

What  glorious  places  our  cities  wrouM  be  to  live  in,  if  charity  domi- 
nated !  What  if  all  the  young  «and  old  gossipers  were  dead.  The  Lord 
hasten  their  funerals !  What  if  tittle  tattle  and  whispering  were  out  of 
fashion  !  What  if,  in  ciphering  out  the  value  of  other  people's  character 
in  our  moral  arithmetic,  we  stuck  to  addition  instead  of  subtraction  ! 
Kindness  !  Let  us,  morning,  noon  and  night,  pray  for  it  until  we  get 
it.  When  you  can  speak  a  good  word  for  some  one,  speak  it.  If  you 
can  conscientiously  give  a  letter  of  commendation,  give  it.  Watch  for 
opportunities  for  doing  good  fifty  years  after  you  are  dead. 

KINDNESS     OF    ACTION. 

Furthermore,  there  is  kindness  of  action.  That  is  what  Joseph 
showed  to  his  outrageous  brothers.  That  is  what  David  showed  to 
Mephibosheth  for  his  father  Jonathan's  sake.  That  is  what  Onesipho- 
rus  showed  to  Paul  in  the  Roman  penitentiary.  That  is  what  William 
Cowper  recognized  when  he  said  he  would  not  trust  a  man  who  would 
with  his  foot  needlessly  crush  a  worm. 

That  is  what  our  assassinated  President  Lincoln  demonstrated  when 
his  private  secretary  found  him  in  the  Capitol  grounds  trying  to  get  a 
bird  back  to  the  nest  from  which  it  had  fallen,  and  which  quality  he  ex- 
hibited years  before,  when,  with  some  lawyers  on  the  way  to  court, 
having  passed  on  the  road  a  swine  fast  in  the  mire,  he  said  to 
the  gentlemen,  "I  must  go  back  and  help  that  hog  out  of  the  mire." 
And  he  did  go  back,  and  put  on  solid  ground  that  most  uninteresting 
quadruped. 

That  was  the  spirit  that  was  manifested  by  my  departed  friend,  Alex- 


THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS.  459 

ander  H.  Stephens,  of  Georgia,  (and  lovlier  man  never  exchanged 
earth  for  heaven).  A  senator's  wife,  who  told  my  wife  of  the  circum- 
stance, said  to  him,  "  Mr.  Stephens,  come  and  see  my  dead  canary 
bird."  He  answered,  "  No,  I  could  not  look  at  the  poor  thing  without 
crying." 

That  is  the  spirit  that  Grant  showed  when  at  the  surrender  at  Appo- 
mattox  he  said  to  General  Lee:  "As  many  of  your  soldiers  are  farm- 
ers, and  will  need  the  horses  and  mules  to  raise  the  crops  to  keep  their 
families  from  suffering  next  winter,  let  each  Confederate  who  can  claim 
a  horse  or  mule  take  it  along  with  him." 

WHAT    KINDNESS  MIGHT    ACCOMPLISH. 

Suppose  all  this  assemblage,  and  all  to  whom  these  words  shall 
come  by  printer's  type,  should  resolve  to  make  kindness  an  over- 
arching, undergirding,  and  all  pervading  principle  of  their  life,  and  then 
carry  out  the  resolution,  why,  in  six  months  the  whole  earth  would  feel 
it.  People  would  say: 

"  What  is  the  matter?  It  seems  to  me  that  the  world  is  getting  to  be 
a  better  place  to  live  in.  Life  after  all  is  worth  living.  Why,  there  is 
Shylock,  my  neighbor,  has  withdrawn  his  law-suit  of  foreclosure 
against  that  man,  and  because  he  has  had  so  much  sickness  in  his 
family,  he  is  to  have  the  house  for  one  year  rent  free.  There  is  an 
old  lawyer  in  that  young  lawyer's  office,  and  do  you  know  what  he  has 
gone  in  there  for?  Why,  he  is  helping  fix  up  a  case  which  is  too  big  for 
the  young  man  to  handle,  and  the  white-haired  attorney  is  hunting  up 
previous  decisions  and  making  out  a  brief  for  the  boy. 

"  Down  at  the  bank  I  heard  yesterday  that  a  bill  was  due,  and  the 
young  merchant  could  not  meet  it,  and  an  old  merchant  went  in  and 
got  for  him  three  months'  extension,  which  for  the  young  merchant  is 
the  difference  between  bankruptcy  and  success  in  business.  And  in 
our  street  is  an  artist  who  had  a  fine  picture  of  the  '  Rapids  of 
Niagara,'  and  he  could  not  sell  it,  and  his  family  were  suffering,  and 
were  themselves  in  the  rapids,  but  a  lady  heard  of  this  and  said:  'I  do 
not  need  the  picture,  but  for  the  encouragement  of  art  and  to  help  you 
out  of  your  distress,  I  will  take  it,'  and  on  her  drawing-room  wall  are 
the  'Rapids  of  Niagara.' 

"  Do  you  know  that  a  strange  thing  has  taken  place.  All  the  old 
ministers  are  helping  the  young  ministers,  and  all  the  old  doctors  arc 


460  THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS. 

helping  the  young  doctors,  and  the  farmers  are  assisting  each  other  in 
gathering  the  harvest,  and  for  that  farmer  who  is  sick  the  neighbors 
have  made  a  "  bee  "  as  they  call  it,  and  they  have  all  turned  in  to  help 
him  get  his  crops  into  the  garner  ? 

"  And  they  tell  me  that  the  older  and  more  skillful  reporters  who 
\  have  permanent  positions  on  papers  are  helping  the  young  fellows  who 
are  just  beginning  to  try  and  don't  know  exactly  how  to  doit.  And 
after  a  few  erasures  and  interpolations  on  the  reporter's  pad  they  say: 
'  Now  here  is  a  readable  account  of  that  tragedy.  Hand  it  in  and  I  am 
sure  the  managing  editor  will  take  it.'  And  I  heard  this  morning  of  a 
poor  old  man  whose  three  children  were  in  hot  debate  as  to  who  should 
take  care  of  him  in  his  declining  days.  The  oldest  son  declared  it  was 
his  right  because  he  was  the  oldest,  and  the  youngest  son  said  it  was 
his  right  because  he  was  the  youngest,  and  Mary  said  it  was  her  right 
because  she  better  understood  father's  vertigo  and  rheumatism  and 
poor  spells,  and  knew  better  how  to  nurse  him,  and  the  only  way  the 
difficulty  could  be  settled  was  by  the  old  man's  promise  that  he  would 
divide  the  year  into  three  parts,  and  spend  a  third  of  his  time  with  each 
one  of  them. 

"And  neighboring  stores  in  the  same  line  of  goods  on  the  same 
block  are  acting  kindly  to  each  other,  and  when  one  is  a  little  short  of 
a  certain  kind  of  goods,  his  neighbor  says,  'I  will  help  you  until  you 
can  replenish  your  shelves.'  It  seems  to  me  that  the  words  of  Isaiah 
are  being  fulfilled,  where  he  says,  '  The  carpenter  encouraged  the 
goldsmith,  and  he  that  smooths  with  the  hammer,  him  that  smote  the 
anvil,  saying  it  is  ready  for  the  soldering.'  What  is  the  matter  ?  It 
seems  to  me  our  old  world  is  picking  up.  Why,  the  millennium  must 
be  coming  in.  Kindness  has  gotten  the  victory." 

WHAT    THE     WINDS    SAID. 

Why  should  we  not  indeed  inaugurate  a  new  dispensation  of  genial- 
ity ?  If  we  cannot  yet  have  a  millennium  on  a  large  scale,  let  us  have 
•  it  on  a  small  scale,  and  under  our  own  vestments.  You  cannot  fret 
the  world  up,  although  you  may  fret  the  world  down.  You  cannot 
scold  it  into  excellence  or  reformation  or  godliness. 

The  east  wind  and  the  west  wind  were  one  day  talking  with  each 
other,  and  the  east  wind  said  to  the  west  wind:  "  Don't  you  wish  you 
had  my  power  ?  Why,  when  I  start  they  hail  me  by  storm  signals  all 


THE  POWER  OF  KINDNESS. 


461 


along  the  coast.  1  can  twist  off  a  ship's  mast  as  easily  as  a  cow's  hoof 
cracks  an  alder.  With  one  sweep  of  my  wing  I  have  strewn  the  coast 
from  Newfoundland  to  Key  West  with  parted  ship-timber.  I  can  lift 
and  have  lifted  the  Atlantic  ocean.  I  am  the  terror  of  all  invalidism, 
and  to  fight  me  back  forests  must  be  cut  down  for  fires,  and  the  mines 
of  continents  are  called  on  to  feed  the  furnaces.  Under  my  breath  the 
nations  crouch  into  sepulchres.  Don't  you  wish  you  had  my  power?" 
said  the  east  wind. 


IN    THE    STORM. 

The  west  wind  made  no  answer,  but  started  on  its  mission,  coming 
somewhere  out  of  the  rosy  bowers  of  the  sky,  and  all  the  rivers  and 
lakes  and  seas  smiled  at  its  coming.  The  gardens  bloomed,  and  the 
orchards  ripened,  and  the  wheat  fields  turned  their  silver  into  gold, 
and  health  clapped  its  hands,  and  joy  shouted  from  the  hilltops,  and 
the  nations  lifted  their  foreheads  into  the  light,  and  the  earth  had  a 
doxology  for  the  sky,  and  the  sky  an  anthem  for  the  earth,  and  the 
warmth,  and  the  sparkle,  and  the  gladness,  and  the  foliage,  and  the 
flowers,  and  the  fruits,  and  the  beauty,  and  the  life  were  the  only  an- 
swer the  west  wind  made  to  the  insolence  of  the  east  wind's  interroga 
tion. 


EVERYDAY  RELIGION 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


WHEN  the  apostle  sets  forth  the  idea  that  so  common  an  action  &f 
the  taking  of  food  and  drink  is  to  be  conducted  to  the  glory  ol 
God,  he  proclaims  the  importance  of  religion  in  the  ordinary 
affairs  of  our  life.  In  all  ages  of  the  world  there  has  been  a  tendency 
to   set  apart  certain  days,  places  and  occasions  for  worship,  and  to 
think  those  were  the  chief  realms  in  which  religion  was  to  act.  Now, 
holy  days  and  holy  places  have  their  importance.     They  give  oppor- 
tunity  for  especial  performance  of  Christian  duty,  and  for  regaling  of 
the  religious  appetite ;  but  they  cannot  take  the  place  of  continuous 
exercise  of  faith  and  prayer. 

In  other  words,  a  man  cannot  be  so  much  of  a  Christian  on  Sunday 
that  he  can  afford  to  be  a  worldling  all  the  rest  of  the  week.  If  a 
steamer  puts  out  for  Southampton,  and  goes  one  day  in  that  direction 
and  the  other  six  days  in  other  directions,  how  long  will  it  be  before 
the  steamer  will  get  to  Southampton  ?  It  will  never  get  there.  And 
though  a  man  may  seem  to  be  voyaging  heavenward  during  the 
holy  Sabbath  day,  if,  during  the  following  six  days  of  the  week,  he  is 
going  toward  the  world,  and  toward  the  flesh,  and  toward  the  devil, 
he  will  never  ride  up  to  the  peaceful  harbor  of  heaven. 

You  cannot  eat  so  much  at  the  Sabbath  banquet  that  you  can 
afford  religious  abstinence  the  other  six  days.  Heroism  and  princely 
behavior  on  great  occasions  are  no  apology  for  lack  of  right  demeanor 
in  circumstances  insignificant  and  inconspicuous.  The  genuine  Christ- 
ian life  is  not  spasmodic ;  does  not  go  by  fits  and  starts.  It  toils  on 
through  heat  and  cold,  up  steep  mountains  and  along  dangerous 
declivities,  its  eye  on  the  everlasting  hills  crowned  with  the  castle*  «f 
the  blessed. 

462 


EVERYDAY  RELIGION. 


4<>3 


We  want  to  bring  the  religion  of  Christ  into  our  conversation. 
When  a  dam  breaks  and  two  or  three  villages  are  overwhelmed,  or 
an  earthquake  in  South  America  swallows  a  whole  city,  then  people 


THE    WORLDLING. 


begin  to  talk  about  the  uncertainty  of  life,  and  they  imagine  they  are 
engaged  in  positively  religious  conversation.  No.  You  may  talk  about 
these  things  and  have  no  grace  of  God  at  all  in  your  heart.  We  ought 


4&4  £  VER  YD  A  Y 

every  day  to  be  talking-  religion.  If  there  is  anything  glad  about  it,  any 
thing  beautiful  about  it,  anything  important  about  it,  we  ought  to  be 
continuously  discussing  it. 

I  have  noticed  that  men,  just  in  proportion  as  their  Christian  ex- 
perience  is  shallow,  talk  about  funerals  and  graveyards  and  tombstones 
and  deathbeds.  The  real,  genuine  Christian  man  talks  chiefly  about 
this  life  and  the  great  eternity  beyond,  and  not  so  much  about  the 
insignificant  pass  between  these  two  residences.  And  yet  how  few 
circles  there  are  where  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  is  welcome.  Go 
into  a  circle,  even  of  Christian  people,  where  they  are  full  of  joy  and 
hilarity,  and  talk  of  Christ  and  heaven,  and  everything  is  immediately 
silenced. 

As  on  a  summer  day,  when  the  forests  are  full  of  life,  chatter,  chirrup 
and  carol —  a  mighty  chorus  of  bird  harmony,  every  tree  branch  an 
orchestra — if  a  hawk  appear  in  the  sky  every  voice  stops,  and  the 
forests  are  still;  just  so  I  have  seen  a  lively  religious  circle  silenced 
on  the  appearance  of  anything  like  religious  conversation.  No  one 
has  anything  to  say,  save  perhaps  some  old  patriarch  in  the  corner 
of  the  room,  who  really  thinks  that  something  ought  to  be  said  under 
the  circumstances  ;  so  he  puts  one  foot  over  the  other,  and  heaves  a 
long  sigh  and  says,  "  Oh,  yes  ;  that's  so,  that's  so  !  " 

My  friends,  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  is  something  to  talk  about 
with  a  glad  heart.  It  is  brighter  than  the  waters  ;  it  is  more  cheerful 
than  the  sunshine.  Do  not  go  around  groaning  about  your  religion 
when  you  ought  to  be  singing  it  or  talking  it  in  cheerful  tones  of  voice. 
How  often  it  is  that  we  find  men  whose  lives  are  utterly  inconsistent, 
who  attempt  to  talk  religion,  and  always  make  a  failure  of  it !  My 
friends,  we  must  live  religion  or  we  cannot  talk  it.  If  a  man  is  cranky 
and  cross  and  uncongenial  and  hard  in  his  dealings,  and  then  begins  to 
talk  about  Christ  and  heaven,  everybody  is  repelled  by  it. 

Yet  I  have  heard  such  men  say  in  whining  tones,  "  We  are 
miserable  sinners,"  "The  Lord  bless  you,"  "The  Lord  have  mercy 
on  you,"  thei/  conversation  interlarded  with  such  expressions,  which 
mean  nothing  but  canting,  and  canting  is  the  worst  form  of  hypocrisy. 
If  we  have  really  felt  the  religion  of  Christ  in  our  hearts  let  us  talk  it, 
and  talk  it  with  an  illuminated  countenance,  remembering  that  when 
two  Christian  people  talk,  God  gives  especial  attention  and  writes 
down  what  they  say.  "  Then  they  that  feared  the  Lord  spake  often 


EVERYDAY  RELIGION.  465 

one  to  another :  and  the  Lord  harkened  and  heard  it,and  a  book  of 
remembrance  was  written." 

We  must  bring  the  religion  of  Christ  into  our  employments.  "  Oh," 
you  say,  "that  is  very  well  if  a  man  handles  large  sums  of  money,  or 
if  he  have  an  extensive  traffic  ;  but  in  my  thread  and  needle  store,  in 
my  trimming  establishment,  in  the  humble  work  in  life  that  I  am  called 
to,  the  sphere  is  too  small  for  the  action  of  such  grand  heavenly  prin- 
ciples." Who  told  you  so  ?  Do  you  know  that  God  watches  the  faded 
leaf  on  the  brook's  surface  as  certainly  as  he  does  the  path  of  a  blazing 
sun  ?  And  the  moss  that  creeps  up  the  side  of  the  rock  makes  as  much 
impression  upon  God's  mind  as  the  waving  tops  of  Oregon  pine  and 
Lebanon  cedar ;  and  the  alder,  cracking  under  the  cow's  hoof,  sounds 
as  loud  in  God's  ear  as  the  snap  of  a  world's  conflagration. 

When  you  have  anything  to  do  in  life,  however  humble  it  may  seem 
to  be,  God  is  always  there  to  help  you  do  it.  If  your  work  is  that  of  a 
fisherman,  then  God  will  help  you,  as  he  helped  Simon  when  he  dragged 
Gennesaret.  If  your  work  is  drawing  water,  then  he  will  help  you,  as 
when  he  talked  at  the  well  curb  to  the  Samaritan  woman.  If  you  are 
engaged  in  the  custom  house  he  will  lea.d  you,  as  he  led  Matthew  sit- 
ting at  the  receipt  of  customs.  A  religion  that  is  not  good  in  one 
place  is  not  worth  anything  in  another  place.  The  man  who  has  only 
a  day's  wages  in  his  pocket,  as  certainly  needs  the  guidance  of  religion 
as  he  who  rattles  the  keys  of  a  bank  and  could  abscond  with  a  hundred 
thousand  hard  dollars. 

There  are  those  prominent  in  the  churches  who  seem  to  be,  on  pub- 
lic occasions,  very  devout,  who  do  not  put  the  principles  of  Christ's 
religion  into  practice.  They  are  the  most  inexorable  of  creditors. 
They  are  the  most  grasping  of  dealers.  They  are  known  as  sharpers 
on  the  street.  They  fleece  every  sheep  they  can  catch.  A  country 
merchant  comes  in  to  buy  spring  or  fall  goods,  and  he  gets  into  the 
store  of  one  of  these  professed  Christian  men  who  have  really  no 
grace  in  their  hearts,  and  he  is  completely  swindled. 

He  is  so  overcome  that  he  cannot  get  out  of  town  during  the 
week.  He  stays  in  town  over  Sunday,  goes  into  some  church  to  get 
Christian  consolation,  when  what  is  his  amazement  to  find  that  the 
very  man  who  hands  him  the  poor  box  in  the  church  is  the  one  who  re- 
lieved him  of  his  money  !  But  never  mind  ;  the  deacon  has  his  black 
coat  on  now.  He  looks  solemn,  and  goes  home  talking  about  "  the 

30 


4^6  E  VER  YD  A  Y  REL  1C  ION. 

blessed  sermon."     If  the  wheat  in   the  churches   should    be  put  into 
a  hopper,  the  first  turn  of  the  crank  would  make  the  chaff  fly. 

Some  of  these  men  are  great  sticklers  for  Gospel  preaching.  They 
say:  "You  stand  there  in  bands  and  surplice  and  gown,  and  preach — 
preach  like  an  angel,  and  we  will  stand  out  here  and  attend  to  business. 
Don't  mix  things.  Don't  get  business  and  religion  in  the  same  bucket 
You  attend  to  your  matters  and  we  will  attend  to  ours."  They  do  not 
know  that  God  sees  every  cheat  they  have  practiced  in  the  last  six 
years,  that  he  can  look  through  the  iron  wall  of  their  fire  proof  safe, 
that  he  has  counted  every  dishonest  dollar  they  have  in  their  pocket, 
and  that  a  day  of  judgment  will  come.  These  inconsistent  Christian 
men  will  sit  on  the  Sabbath  night  in  the  house  of  God,  singing  at  the 
close  of  the  service,  "  Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me,"  and  then,  when  the 
benediction  is  pronounced,  shut  the  pew  door  and  say,  as  they  go 
out,  "Goodby,  religion.  I'll  be  back  next  Sunday." 

I  think  that  the  church  of  God  and  the  Sabbath  are  only  an  armory 
where  we  are  to  get  weapons.  When  war  comes,  if  a  man  wants  to 
fight  for  his  country  he  does  not  go  to  Troy  or  Springfield  to  do  battling, 
but  he  goes  there  for  swords  and  muskets.  I  look  upon  the  church 
of  Christ  and  the  Sabbath  day  as  only  the  place  and  time  where  and 
when  we  are  to  get  armed  for  Christian  conflict ;  but  the  battlefield  is 
on  Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday  and  Saturday. 
"St.  Martin's"  and  " Lenox"  and  "Old  Hundred"  do  not  amount 
to  anything  unless  they  sing  all  the  week.  A  sermon  is  useless  unless 
we  can  take  it  with  us  behind  the  plow  and  the  counter.  The  Sabbath 
day  is  worthless  if  it  last  only  twenty-four  hours. 

There  are  many  Christians  who  say:  "We  are  willing  to  serve 
God,  but  we  do  not  want  to  do  it  in  these  spheres  about  which  we 
are  talking,  and  it  seems  so  insipid  and  monotonous.  If  we  had  some 
great  occasion,  if  we  had  lived  in  the  time  of  Luther,  if  we  had  been 
Paul's  traveling  companion,  if  we  could  serve  God  on  a  great  scale,  we 
would  do  it ;  but  we  can't  in  this  everyday  life."  I  admit  that  a  great 
deal  of  the  romance  and  knight-errantry  of  life  have  disappeared  before 
the  advance  of  this  practical  age. 

The  ancient  temples  of  Rome  have  been  changed  into  storehouses 
and  smithies.  The  residences  of  poets  and  princes  have  been  turned 
into  brokers'  shops.  The  classic  mansion  of  Ashland  has  been  cut  up 
into  walking  sticks.  The  groves  where  the  poets  said  the  gods  dwelt 


|i)|L:.i .... 


THE  PATH   OF  WISDOM 


467 


468  £  VER  YD  A  Y  RELIGION. 

have  been  carted  out  for  fire  wood.  The  muses  that  we  used  to  read 
about  have  disappeared  before  the  emigrant's  axe  and  the  trapper's 
gun,  and  that  man  who  is  waiting  for  a  life  bewitched  of  wonders  will 
never  find  it.  There  is,  however,  a  field  for  endurance  and  great 
achievement,  but  it  is  in  everyday  life.  There  are  Alps  to  scale, 
there  are  Hellesponts  to  swim,  there  are  fires  to  brave  ;  but  they  are 
all  around  us  now.  This  is  the  hardest  kind  of  martyrdom  to  bear. 

It  took  grace  to  lead  Latimer  and  Ridley  through  the  fire  triumph- 
antly when  their  armed  enemies  and  their  friends  were  looking  on  ; 
but  it  requires  more  grace  now  to  bring  men  through  persecution, 
when  nobody  is  looking  on.  I  could  show  you  in  this  city  a  woman 
who  has  had  rheumatism  for  twenty  years,  who  has  endured  more 
suffering  and  exhausted  more  grace  than  would  have  made  twenty 
martyrs  pass  triumphantly  through  the  fire.  If  you  are  not  faithful 
in  an  insignificant  position  in  life  you  would  not  be  faithful  in  a  grand 
mission.  If  you  cannot  stand  the  bite  of  a  midge,  how  could  you 
endure  the  breath  of  a  basilisk*? 

Do  not  think  that  any  work  God  gives  you  to  do  in  the  world  is  on 
too  small  a  scale  for  you  to  do.  The  whole  universe  is  not  ashamed 
to  take  care  of  one  little  flower.  I  say:  "What  are  you  doing  down 
here  in  the  grass,  you  poor  little  flower?  Are  you  not  afraid  nights? 
You  will  be  neglected,  you  will  die  of  thirst,  you  will  not  be  fed. 
Poor  little  flower  !  "  "  No,  "  says  a  star,  "I'll watch  over  it  to-night." 
"No,  "  says  a  cloud,  "I'll  give  it  drink."  "No,  "  says  the  sun,  "I'll 
warm  it  in  my  bosom.''  Then  I  seethe  pulleys  going  and  the  clouds 
are  drawing  water,  and  I  say,  "What  are  you  doing  there,  O 
clouds?"  And  they  reply  "  We  are  giving  drink  to  that  flower" 

Then  the  wind  rises,  and  comes  bending  down  the  wheat  and 
sounding  its  psalm  through  the  forest,  and  I  cry,  "Whither  away  on 
such  swift  wing,  Owind?"  And  it  replies,  "We  are  going  to  cool 
the  cheek  of  that  flower."  And  then  I  bow  down  and  say,  "Will 
God  take  care  of  the  grass  of  the  field  ?  "  and  a  flower  at  my  foot  re- 
sponds, "  Yes;  he  clothes  the  lilies  of  the  field,  and  never  yet  has 
forgotten  me,  a  poor  flower."  Oh,  when  I  see  the  great  heavens 
bending  themselves  to  what  seems  insignificant  ministration,  when  I 
find  out  that  God  does  not  forget  any  blossom  of  the  spring  or  any 
snowflake  of  the  winter,  I  come  to  the  conclusion  that  we  can  afford 
to  attend  to  the  minute  things  in  life,  and  that  what  we  do  we  ought 


E  VER  YD  A  Y  RELIGION.  4^5 

to  do  well,  since  there  is  as  much  perfection  in  the  construction  of  a 
spider's  eye  as  in  the  conformation  of  flaming  galaxies. 

Plato  had  a  fable  which  I  have  now  nearly  forgotten,  but  it  ran 
something  like  this:  He  said  spirits  of  the  other  world  came  back  to  this 
world  to  find  a  body  and  find  a  sphere  of  work.  One  spirit  came  and 
took  the  body  of  a  king,  and  did  his  work.  Another  spirit  came  and 
took  the  body  of  a  poet,  and  did  his  work.  After  awhile  Ulysses 
came,  and  he  said,  "Why,  all  the  fine  bodies  are  taken,  and  all  the 
grand  work  is  taken.  There  is  nothing  left  for  me."  And  some 
one  replied,  "Ah  !  the  best  one  has  been  left  for  you."  Ulysses  said, 
"  What's  that  ?"  And  the  reply  was,  "The  body  of  a  common  man 
doing  a  common  work,  and  for  a  common  reward."  A  good  fable  for 
the  world,  and  just  as  good  a  fable  for  a  church.  Whether  we  eat  or 
drink,  or  whatsoever  we  do,  let  us  do  it  to  the  glory  of  God. 

Again,  we  need  to  bring  the  religion  of  Christ  into  our  commonest 
trials.  For  severe  losses,  for  bereavement,  for  trouble  that  shocks 
like  an  earthquake  and  that  blasts  like  a  storm,  we  prescribe  religious 
consolation;  but,  business  man,  for  the  small  annoyances  of  last  week 
how  much  of  the  grace  of  God  did  you  apply?  "Oh,"  you  say, 
"  these  trials  are  too  small  for  such  application."  My  brother,  they 
are  shaping  your  character,  they  are  souring  your  temper,  they  are 
wearing  out  your  patience,  and  they  are  making  you  less  and  less  of  a 
man. 

I  go  into  a  sculptor's  studio  and  see  him  shaping  a  statue.  He 
has  a  chisel  in  one  hand  and  a  mallet  in  the  other,  and  he  gives  a  very 
gentle  stroke — click,  click,click  !  I  say,  "Why  don't  you  strike  harder?  " 
"  Oh ! ';  he  replies,  "that  would  shatter  the  statue.  I  can't  do  it  that 
way.  I  must  do  it  this  way."  So  he  works  on,  and  after  awhile  the 
features  come  out  and  everybody  that  enters  the  studio  is  charmed  and 
fascinated.  Well,  God  has  your  soul  under  process  of  development, 
and  it  is  the  little  annoyances  and  vexations  of  life  that  are  chiseling 
out  your  immortal  nature.  It  is  click,  click,  click  !  I  wonder  why  some 
great  providence  does  not  come  and  with  one  stroke  prepare  you  for 
heaven.  Ah,  no.  God  says  that  is  not  the  way. 

And  so  he  keeps  on  by  strokes  of  little  annoyances,  little  sorrows, 
little  vexations,  until  at  last  you  shall  be  a  glad  spectacle  for  angels 
and  for  men.  You  know  that  a  large  fortune  may  be  spent  in  small 
change,  and  a  vast  amount  of  moral  character  may  go  away  in  small 


470  £  VER  YD  A  Y  RELIGION. 

depletion.  It  is  the  little  troubles  of  life  that  are  having  more  effect 
upon  you  than  great  ones.  A  swarm  of  locusts  will  kill  a  grain  field 
sooner  than  the  incursion  of  three  or  four  cattle.  You  say,  "Since  1 
lost  my  child,  since  I  lost  my  property,  I  have  been  a  different  man." 

But  you  do  not  recognize  the  architecture  of  little  annoyances  that 
are  hewing,  digging,  cutting,  shaping,  splitting  and  interjoining  your 
moral  qualities.  Rats  may  sink  a  ship.  One  lucifer  match  may  send 
destruction  through  a  block  of  storehouses.  Catherine  de  Medicis  got 
her  death  from  smelling  a  poisonous  rose.  Columbus,  by  stopping 
and  asking  for  a  piece  of  bread  and  a  drink  of  water  at  a  Franciscan 
convent,  was  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  new  world.  And  there  is  an 
intimate  connection  between  trifles  and  immensities,  between  nothings 
and  everythings. 

Now,  be  careful  to  let  none  of  those  annoyances  go  through  your 
soul  unarraigned.  Compel  them  to  administer  to  your  spiritual 
wealth.  The  scratch  of  a  six-penny  nail  sometimes  produces  lockjaw, 
and  the  clip  of  a  most  infinitesimal  annoyance  may  damage  you  for- 
ever. Do  not  let  any  annoyance  or  perplexity  come  across  your  soul 
without  its  making  you  better. 

Our  national  government  does  not  think  it  belittling  to  put  a  tax  on 
pins,  and  a  tax  on  buckles,  and  a  tax  on  shoes.  The  individual  taxes 
do  not  amount  to  much,  but  in  the  aggregate  they  reach  millions  and 
millions  of  dollars.  And  I  would  have  you,  O  Christian  man,  put  a 
high  tariff  on  every  annoyance  and  vexation  that  comes  through  your 
soul.  This  might  not  amount  to  much  in  single  cases,  but  in  the 
aggregate  it  would  be  a  great  revenue  of  spiritual  strength 'and  satis- 
faction. A  bee  can  suck  honey  even  out  of  a  nettle,  and  if  you  have 
the  grace  of  God  in  your  heart  you  can  get  sweetness  out  of  that 
which  would  otherwise  irritate  and  annoy. 

A  returned  missionary  told  me  that  a  company  of  adventurers  row- 
ing up  the  Ganges  were  stung  to  death  by  flies  that  infest  that  region 
at  certain  seasons.  The  only  way  to  get  prepared  for  the  great 
troubles  of  life  is  to  conquer  these  small  troubles.  .  What  would  you 
say  of  a  soldier  who  refused  to  load  his  gun  or  to  go  into  a  conflict 
because  it  was  only  a  skirmish,  saying  "  I  am  not  going  to  expend 
my  ammunition  on  a  skirmish;  wait  until  there  comes  a  general 
engagement,  and  then  you  will  see  how  courageous  I  am,  and  what 
battling  I  will  do?"  The  general  would  say  to  such  a  man,  "If  you 


EVERYDAY   RELIGION.  471 

are   not  faithful  in  a  skirmish,  you  would  be  nothing   in   a    general 
engagement." 

Again  we  must  bring  the  religion  of  Christ  into  our  commonest 
blessings.  When  the  autumn  conies,  and  the  harvests  are  in,  and 
the  governors  make  proclamations,  we  assemble  in  churches,  and  we 
are  very  thankful.  But  every  day  ought  to  be  a  thanksgiving  day. 
We  do  not  recognize  the  common  mercies  of  life.  We  have  to  see  a 
blind  man  led  by  his  dog  before  we  begin  to  think  ourselves  of  what 
a  grand  thing  it  is  to  have  eyesight.  We  have  to  see  some  one 
afflicted  with  St.  Vitus'  dance  before  we  are  ready  to  thank  God  for 
the  control  of  our  physical  energies.  We  have  to  see  some  wounded 
man  hobbling  on  his  crutch,  or  with  his  empty  coat  sleeve  pinned  up, 
before  we  learn  to  think  what  a  grand  thing  God  did  for  us  when  he 
gave  us  healthy  use  of  our  limbs. 

We  are  so  stupid  that  nothing  but  the  misfortunes  of  others  can 
rouse  us  up  to  our  blessings.  As  the  ox  grazes  in  the  pasture  up 
to  its  eyes  in  the  clover,  yet  never  thinking  who  makes  the  clover, 
and  as  the  bird  picks  up  the  worm  from  the  furrow,  not  knowing  that  it 
is  God  who  makes  everything,  from  the  animalcula  in  the  sod  to  the 
seraph  on  the  throne  ;  so  we  go  on  eating,  drinking  and  enjoying, 
but  never  or  seldom  thanking,  or,  if  thanking  at  all,  with  only  half  a 
heart. 

I  compared  our  indifference  to  that  of  the  brute  ;  but  perhaps  I 
wronged  the  brute.  I  do  not  know  but  that,  among  its  other  instincts, 
it  may  have  an  instinct  by  which  it  recognizes  the  divine  hand  that 
feeds  it.  I  do  not  know  but  that  God  is,  through  it,  holding  communi- 
cation with  what  we  call  "irrational  creation."  The  cow  that  stands 
under  the  willow  by  the  water-course  chewing  its  cud  looks  very 
thankful,  and  who  can  tell  how  much  a  bird  means  by  its  song  ?  The 
aroma  of  the  flowers  smells  like  incense,  and  the  mist  arising  from 
the  river  looks  like  the  smoke  of  a  morning  sacrifice.  Oh,  that  we 
were  as  responsive  ! 

Yet  who  thanks  God  for  the  water  that  gushes  up  in  the  well,  and 
that  foams  in  the  cascades,  and  that  laughs  over  the  rocks,  and  that ' 
patters  in  the  showers,  and  that  claps  its  hands  in  the  sea  ?  Who 
thanks  God  for  the  air,  the  fountain  of  life,  the  bridge  of  sunbeams, 
the  path  of  sound,  the  great  fan  on  a  hot  summer's  day  ?  Who 
thanks  God  for  this  wonderful  physical  organism,  this  sweep  of  the 


47  2  E  VER  YD  A  Y  RELIGION. 

vision,  this  chime  of  harmony  struck  into  the  ear,  this  soft  tread  tf*. 
a  myriad  delights  over  the  nervous  tissues,  this  rolling  of  the  crimson 
tide  through  artery  and  vein,  this  drumming  of  the  heart  on  our 
march  to  immortality?  We  take  all  these  things  as  a  matter  oi 
course. 

But  suppose  God  withdrew  these  common  blessings  !  This  body 
would  then  become  an  inquisition  of  torture,  the  cloud  would  refuse 
i  rain,  every  green  thing  would  crumple  up,  and  the  earth  would  crack 
open  under  your  feet.  The  air  would  cease  its  healthy  circulation, 
pestilence  would  swoop,  and  every  house  would  become  a  place  of 
skulls.  Streams  would  first  swim  with  vermin  and  then  dry  up,  and 
thirst  and  hunger  and  anguish  and  despair  would  lift  their  scepters. 

I  was  preaching  one  Thanksgiving  Day  and  announced  my  text, 
"Oh,  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord,  for  he  is  good;  for  his  mercy  endureth 
for  ever."  I  do  not  know  whether  there  was  any  blessing  on  the 
sermon  or  not,  but  the  text  went  straight  to  a  young  man's  heart.  He 
said  to  himself,  as  I  read  the  text:  "  '  Oh,  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord, 
for  he  is  good ' — Why,  I  have  never  rendered  him  any  thanks.  Oh, 
what  an  ingrate  I  have  been  ! "  Can  it  be,  my  brother,  that  you 
have  been  fed  by  the  good  hand  of  God  all  these  days,  that  you  have 
had  clothing  and  shelter  and  all  beneficent  surroundings,  and  yet  have 
never  offered  your  heart  to  God  ? 

Oh,  let  a  sense  of  the  divine  goodness  shown  you  in  the  everyday 
blessings  melt  your  heart;  and  if  you  have  never  before  uttered  one 
earnest  note  of  thanksgiving,  let  this  be  the  day  which  shall  hear  your 
song.  Take  this  practical  religion  I  have  recommended  into  your 
everyday  life.  Make  every  day  a  Sabbath,  and  every  meal  a  sacra- 
ment, and  every  room  you  enter  a  holy  of  holies.  We  all  have 
work  to  do;  let  us  be  willing  to  do  it.  We  all  have  sorrows  to  bear; 
let  us  cheerfully  bear  them.  We  all  have  battles  to  fight;  let  us 
courageously  fight  them.  If  you  want  to  die  right  you  must  live  right. 

Negligence  and  indolence  will  win  the  hiss  of  everlasting  scorn, 
'vnile  faithfulness  will  gather  its  garlands  and  wave  its  scepter  and  sit 
upon  its  throne  long  after  this  earth  has  put  on  ashes  and  eternal  ages 
have  begun  their  march.  Our  every  step  in  life  will  then  be  a 
triumphal  march,  and  the  humblest  footstool  on  which  we  are  called  to 
sit  will  be  a  conqueror's  throne. 


P  sfyall  t\pt  Want. 


to  lie  doWu  in  greeu 

txve 
beside  the  still  Waters. 


• 


474 


BORROWING  TROUBLE 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


THE  life  of  every  man,  woman  and  child  is  as  closely  under  the  divine 
care  as  though  such  person  were  the  only  man,  woman  or  child. 
There  are  no  accidents.  As  there  is  a  law  of  storms  in  the 
natural  world,  so  there  is  a  law  of  trouble,  a  law  of  disaster,  a  law  of 
misfortune  ;  but  the  majority  of  the  troubles  of  life  are  imaginary,  and 
the  most  of  those  anticipated  never  come.  At  any  rate,  there  is  nc 
cause  of  complaint  against  God.  See  how  much  He  hath  done  to  make 
thee  happy  ;  His  sunshine  filling  the  earth  with  glory,  making  rainbow 
for  the  storm  and  halo  for  the  mountain,  greenness  for  the  moss,  saffron 
for  the  cloud  and  crystal  for  the  billow,  and  procession  of  bannered 
flame  through  the  opening  gates  of  the  morning,  chaffinches  to  sing. 
rivers  to  glitter,  seas  to  chant,  and  springs  to  blossom,  and  overpower- 
ing all  other  sounds  with  its  song,  and  overarching  all  other  splendor 
with  its  triumph,  covering  up  all  other  beauty  with  its  garlands  and  out- 
flashing  all  other  thrones  with  its  dominion  —  deliverence  for  a  lost  world 
through  the  Great  Redeemer. 


KEEP  IN  THE  SUNSHINE. 


I  discourse  of  the  sin  of  borrowing  trouble.  First,  such  a  habit  of 
mind  and  heart  is  wrong,  because  it  puts  one  into  a  desp9ndency  that 
ill  fits  him  for  duty.  I  planted  two  rose  bushes  in  my  garden.  The 
one  thrived  beautifully,  the  other  perished.  I  found  the  dead  one  on 
the  shady  side  of  the  house.  Our  dispositions,  like  our  plants,  need 
sunshine.  Expectancy  of  repulse  is  the  cause  of  many  secular  and 
religious  failures.  Fear  of  bankruptcy  has  uptorn  many  a  fine  business 
and  sent  the  man  dodging  among  the  note  shavers.  Fear  of  slander 
and  abuse  has  often  invited  all  the  long  beaked  vultures  of  scorn  and 


476  BORROWING   TROUBLE. 

backbiting.     Many  of  the  misfortunes  of  life,  like   hyenas,   flee   if  you 
courageously  meet  them. 

You  will  have  nothing  but  misfortune  in  the  future  if  you  sedulously 
watch  for  it.  How  shall  a  man  catch  the  right  kind  of  fish  if  he  ar- 
ranges his  line  and  hook  and  bait  to  catch  lizards  and  water  serpents  ? 
Hunt  for  bats  and  hawks,  and  bats  and  hawks  you  will  find.  Hunt  for 
robin  redbreasts  and  you  will  find  robin  redbreasts.  One  night  an 
eagle  and  an  owl  got  into  a  fierce  battle  ;  the  eagle,  unused  to  the 
night,  was  no  match  for  an  owl,  which  is  most  at  home  in  the  darkness, 
and  the  king  of  the  air  fell  helpless  ;  but  the  morning  rose,  and  with  it 
rose  the  eagle  ;  and  the  owls  and  the  night  hawks  and  the  bats  came 
a  second  time  to  the  combat ;  now,  the  eagle  in  the  sunlight,  with  a 
stroke  of  his  talons  and  a  great  cry,  cleared  the  air,  and  his  enemies, 
with  torn  feathers  and  splashed  with  blood,  tumbled  into  the  thickets. 
Ye  are  the  children  of  light.  In  the  night  of  despondency  you  will 
have  no  chance  against  your  enemies  that  flock  up  from  beneath,  but 
trusting  in  God  and  standing  in  the  sunshine  of  promise,  you  shall 
"renew  your  youth  like  the  eagle." 

ENJOY    PRESENT    BLESSINGS. 

Again,  the  habit  of  borrowing  trouble  is  wrong  because  it  has  a  ten- 
dency to  make  us  overlook  present  blessings.  To  slake  man's  thirst, 
the  rock  is  cleft,  and  cool  waters  leap  into  his  brimming  cup.  To  feed 
his  hunger,  the  fields  bow  down  with  bending  wheat,  and  the  cattle 
come  down  with  full  udders  from  the  clover  pastures  to  give  him  milk, 
and  the  orchards  yellow  and  ripen,  casting  their  juicy  fruits  into  his 
lap.  Alas  !  that  amid  such  exuberance  of  blessing  man  should  growl 
as  though  he  were  a  soldier  on  half  rations,  or  a  sailor  on  short  allow- 
ance ;  that  a  man  should  stand  neck  deep  in  harvests  looking  forward 
to  famine  ;  that  one  should  feel  the  strong  pulses  of  health  marching 
with  regular  tread  through  all  the  avenues  of  life  and  yet  tremble  at 
I  the  expected  assault  of  sickness ;  that  a  man  should  sit  in  his  pleasant 
home,  fearful  that  ruthless  want  will  some  day  rattle  the  broken  win- 
dow-sash with  tempest,  and  sweep  the  coals  from  the  hearth,  and  pour 
hunger  into  the  bread  tray  ;  that  a  man  fed  by  Him  who  owns  all  the 
harvests  should  expect  to  starve  ;  that  one  whom  God  loves  and  sur- 
rounds with  benediction,  and  attends  with  angelic  escort,  and  hovers 
over  with  more  than  motherly  fondness,  should  be  looking  for  a  heri- 
tage of  tears ! 


BORROWING   TROUBLE.  477 

It  is  high  time  you  began  to  thank  God  for  your  present  blessings. 
Thank  Him  for  your  .children,  happy,  buoyant  and  bounding.  Praise 
Him  for  your  home  with  its  fountain  of  song  and  laughter.  Adore 
Him  for  morning  light  and  evening  shadow.  Praise  Him  for  fresh, 
cool  water  bubbling  from  the  rock,  leaping  in  the  cascade,  soaring  in 
the  mist,  falling  in  the  shower,  dashing  against  the  rock  and  clapping 
its  hands  in  the  tempest.  Love  Him  for  the  grass  that  cushions  the 
earth  and  the  clouds  that  curtain  the  sky,  and  the  foliage  that  waves  in 
the  forest. 

Many  Christians  think  it  a  bad  sign  to  be  jubilant,  and  their  work 
of  self-examination  is  a  hewing  down  of  their  brighter  experiences. 
Like  a  boy  with  a  newjackknife,  hacking  everything  he  comes  across, 
so  their  self-examination  is  a  religious  cutting  to  pieces  of  the  green- 
est things  they  can  lay  their  hands  on.  They  imagine  they  are  doing 
God's  service  when  they  are  going  about  borrowing  trouble,  and 
borrowing  it  at  thirty  per  cent.,  which  is  always  a  sure  precursor  of 
bankruptcy. 

TROUBLES    NEED    NOT    BE    SOUGHT. 

Again,  the  habit  of  borrowing  trouble  is  wrong,  because  the  pres- 
ent is  sufficiently  taxed  with  trial.  God  sees  that  we  all  need  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  trouble,  and  so  He  apportions  it  for  all  the  days  and 
years  of  our  life.  Alas  for  the  policy  of  gathering  it  all  up  for  one 
day  or  year  !  Cruel  thing  to  put  upon  the  back  of  one  camel  all 
the  cargo  intended  for  the  entire  caravan.  I  never  look  at  my  mem- 
orandum book  to  see  what  engagements  and  duties  are  far  ahead. 
Let  every  week  bear  its  own  burdens. 

The  shadows  of  to-day  are  thick  enough  ;  why  implore  the  presence 
of  other  shadows  ?  The  cup  is  already  distasteful ;  why  halloo  to  dis- 
asters far  distant  to  come  and  wring  out  more  gall  into  bitterness  ? 
Are  we  such  champions  that,  having  won  the  belt  in  former  encoun- 
ters, we  can  go  forth  to  challenge  all  the  future  ? 

Here  are  business  men  just  able  to  manage  affairs  as  they  now 
are.  They  can  pay  their  rent  and  meet  their  notes  and  manage  affairs 
as  they  now  are  ;  but  what  if  there  should  come  a  panic  ?  Go  to-mor- 
row and  write  on  your  daybook,  on  your  ledger,  on  your  money  safe, 
"  Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof."  Do  not  worry  about  notes 
that  are  far  from  due.  Do  not  pile  up  on  your  counting-house  desk 
the  financial  anxieties  of  the  next  twenty  years.  The  God  who  has 


SORROWING   TROUBLE. 

taken  care  of  your  worldly  occupation,  guarding  your  store  from  the 
torch  of  the  incendiary  and  the  key  of  the  burglar,  will  be  as  faithful 
in  1892  as  in  1882.  God's  hand  is  mightier  than  the  machinations  of 
stock  gamblers,  or  the  plots  of  political  demagogues,  or  the  red  right 
arm  of  revolution,  and  the  darkness  will  fly  and  the  storm  fall  dead  at 
His  feet. 

So  there  are  persons  in  feeble  health,  and  they  are  worried  about 
the  future.  They  make  out  very  well  now,  but  they  are  bothering 
themselves  about  the  future  pleurisies  and  rheumatisms  and  neural- 
gias and  fevers.  Their  eyesight  is  feeble,  and  they  are  worried  lest 
they  entirely  lose  it.  Their  hearing  is  indistinct,  and  they  are  alarmed 
lest  they  become  entirely  deaf.  They  felt  chilly  to-day,  and  are  ex- 
pecting an  attack  of  typhoid.  They  have  been  troubled  for  weeks 
with  some  perplexing  malady,  and  dread  becoming  life-long  invalids. 
Take  care  of  your  health  now,  and  trust  God  for  the  future. 

Be  not  guilty  of  the  blasphemy  of  asking  Him  to  take  care  of  you 
while  you  sleep  with  your  window  tight  down,  or  eat  chicken  salad  at 
ii  o'clock  at  night,  or  sit  down  on  a  cake  of  ice  to  cool  off.  Be  pru- 
dent and  then  be  confident.  Some  of  the  sickest  people  have  been 
the  most  useful.  It  was  so  with  Payson,  who  died  deaths  daily,  and 
Robert  Hall,  who  used  to  stop  in  the  midst  of  his  sermon  and  lie  down 
on  the  pulpit  sofa  to  rest,  and  then  go  on  again.  Theodore  Freling- 
huysen  had  a  great  horror  of  dying,  till  the  time  came,  and  then  went 
peacefully.  Take  care  of  the  present  and  let  the  future  look  out  for  it- 
self. "Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof." 

BORROWED    CARE    UNFITS    FOR    REAL. 

Again,  the  habit  of  borrowing  misfortune  is  wrong  because  it  unfits 
us  for  it  when  it  actually  does  come.  We  cannot  always  have  smooth 
sailing.  Life's  path  will  sometimes  tumble  among  declivities  and 
mount  a  steep  and  be  thorn  pierced.  Judas  will  kiss  our  cheek  and 
then  sell  us  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver.  Human  scorn  will  try  to  crucify 
us  between  two  thieves.  We  will  hear  the  iron  gate  of  the  sepulchre 
creak  and  grind  as  it  shuts  in  our  kindred.  But  we  cannot  get  ready 
for  these  things  by  forebodings.  They  who  fight  imaginary  woes  will 
come,  out  of  breath,  into  conflict  with  the  armed  disasters  of  the  future. 
Their  ammunition  will  have  been  wasted  long  before  they  come  under 
the  guns  of  real  misfortune.  Boys  in  attempting  to  jump  a  wall  some- 


BORROWING  TROUBLE.  470 

times  go  so  far  back  in  order  to  get  impetus  that  when  they  come  up 
they  are  exhausted  ;  and  these  long  races  in  order  to  get  spring  enough 
to  vault  trouble  bring  us  up  at  last  to  the  dreadful  reality  with  our 
strength  gone. 

God  has  promised  to  take  care  of  us.  The  Bible  blooms  with  assur- 
ances. Your  hunger  will  be  fed ;  your  sickness  will  be  alleviated  ; 
your  sorrow  will  be  healed.  God  will  sandal  your  feet  and  smooth 
your  path,  and  along  by  frowning  crag  and  opening  grave  sound  the 
voices  of  victory  and  good  cheer.  The  summer  clouds  that  seem  thun- 
der charged  really  carry  in  their  bosom  harvests  of  wheat,  and  shocks 
of  corn,  and  vineyards  purpling  for  the  wine-press.  Our  great  Joshua 
will  command,  and  above  your  soul  the  sun  of  prosperity  will  stand 
still.  Bleak  and  wave-struck  Patmos  shall  have  apocalyptic  vision,  and 
you  shall  hear  the  cry  of  the  elders,  and  the  sweep  of  wings,  and  trum- 
pets of  salvation,  and  the  voice  of  Hallelujah  unto  God  forever. 

Your  way  may  wind  along  dangerous  bridle-paths  and  amid  wolf's 
howl  and  the  scream  of  the  vulture  ;  but  the  way  still  winds  upward  till 
angels  guard  it,  and  trees  of  life  over-arch  it,  and  thrones  line  it,  and 
crystalline  fountains  leap  on  it,  and  the  pathway  ends  at  gates  that  are 
pearl,  and  streets  that  are  gold,  and  temples  that  are  always  open, 
and  hills  that  quake  with  perpetual  song,  and  a  city  mingling  forever 
Sabbath  and  jubilee  and  triumph  and  coronation. 


TRAPS  FOR  MEN 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


Early  in  the  morning  I  went  out  with  a  fowler  to  catch  wild  pigeons. 
We  hastened  through  the  mountain  gorge  and  into  the  forest.  We 
spread  out  the  net,  and  covered  up  the  edges  of  it  as  well  as  we  could. 
We  arranged  the  call  bird,  its  feet  fast  and  its  wings  flapping,  in  invi- 
tation to  all  fowls  of  heaven  to  settle  down  there.  We  retired  into  a 
booth  of  branches  and  leaves  and  waited. 

After  awhile,  looking  out  of  the  door  of  the  booth,  we  saw  a  flock 
of  birds  in  the  sky.  They  came  nearer  and  nearer,  and  after  awhile 
were  about  to  swoop  into  the  net,  when  suddenly  they  darted  away. 
Again  we  waited.  After  awhile  we  saw  another  flock  of  birds.  They 
came  nearer  and  nearer  until  just  at  the  moment  when  they  were 
about  to  swoop  they  darted  away. 

The  fowler  was  very  much  disappointed  as  well  as  myself.  We 
said  to  each  other,  "What  is  the  matter?  "  and  "Why  were  not  these 
birds  caught  ?  "  We  went  out  and  examined  the  net,  and  by  a  flutter 
of  a  branch  of  a  tree  part  of  the  net  had  been  conspicuously  exposed, 
and  the  birds  coming  very  near  had  seen  their  peril  and  darted  away. 
When  I  saw  that,  I  said  to  the  old  fowler,  "That  reminds  me  of  a 
passage  of  Scripture,  «  Surely  in  vain  is  the  net  spread  in  the  sight  of 
any  bird.' " 

The  call  bird  of  sin  tempts  men  on  from  point  to  point  and  from 
branch  to  branch  until  they  are  about  to  drop  into  the  net.  If  a  man 
finds  out  in  time  that  it  is  the  temptation  of  the  devil,  or  that  evil 
men  are  attempting  to  capture  his  soul  for  time  and  for  eternity,  the 
man  steps  back.  He  says,  "I  am  not  to  be  caught  in  that  way;  I  see 
what  you  are  about;  surely  in  vain  is  the  net  spread  in  the  sight  of  any 
bird." 

480  • 


TRAPS  FOR  MEN.  481 

TEMPTATIONS. 

There  are  two  classes  of  temptations,  the  superficial  and  the  sub- 
terraneous, those  above  the  ground,  those  under  ground.  If  a  man 
could  see  sin  as  it  is  he  would  no  more  embrace  it  than  he  would  cm 
brace  a  leper.  Sin  is  a  daughter  of  hell,  yet  she  is  garlanded  and  robed 
and  trinketed.  Her  voice  is  a  warble.  Her  cheek  is  the  setting  sun. 
Her  forehead  is  an  aurora.  She  says  to  men:  "Come,  walk  this  path 
with  me;  it  is  thymed  and  primrosed,  and  the  air  is  bewitched  with  the 
odors  of  the  hanging  gardens  of  heaven;  the  rivers  are  rivers  of  wine; 
and  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  drink  them  up  in  chalices  that  sparkle 
with  diamond  and  amethyst  and  chrysoprase.  See  !  It  is  all  bloom 
and  roseate  cloud  and  heaven.  " 

If  for  one  moment  the  choiring  of  all  these  concerted  voices  of  sin 
could  be  hushed  we  should  see  the  orchestra  of  the  pit  with  hot  breath 
blowing  through  fiery  flute,  and  the  skeleton  arms  on  drums  of 
thunder  and  darkness  beating  the  chorus,  "The  end  thereof  is  death." 

I  want  to  point  out  the  insidious  temptations  that  are  assailing 
more  especially  our  young  men.  The  only  kind  of  nature  compara- 
tively free  from  temptation,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  is  the  cold,  hard, 
stingy,  mean  temperment.  What  would  Satan  do  with  such  a  man  if 
he  got  him  ?  Satan  is  not  anxious  to  get  a  man  who  after  awhile  may 
dispute  with  him  the  realm  of  everlasting  meanness.  It  is  the  gener- 
ous young  man,  the  warm-hearted  young  man,  the  social  young  man 
that  is  in  especial  peril. 

A  pirate  goes  out  on  the  sea,  and  one  bright  morning  he  puts  the 
^lass  to  his  eye  and  looks  off,  and  sees  an  empty  vessel  floating  from 
port  to  port.  He  says,  "  Never  mind;  that's  no  prize  for  us."  But 
the  same  morning  he  puts  the  glass  to  his  eye,  and  he  sees  a  vessel 
coming  from  Australia  laden  with  gold,  or  a  vessel  from  the  Indies 
laden  with  spices.  He  says,  "  That's  our  prize;  bear  down  on  it !  M 
Across  that  unfortunate  ship  the  grappling  hooks  are  thrown.  The 
crew  are  blindfolded  and  are  compelled  to  walk  the  plank.  It  is  not 
the  empty  vessel,  but  the  laden  merchantman  that  is  the  temptation  to 
the  pirate. 

MEANNESS. 

But  a  young  man,  who  is  empty  of  head,  empty  of  life — you  want  no 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  to  keep  him  safe.  He  is  safe. 

31 


482  TRAPS  FOR  MEN. 

He  will  not  gamble  unless  it  is  with  somebody  else's  stakes.  He  will 
not  break  the  Sabbath  unless  somebody  else  pays  the  horse  hire.  He 
will  not  drink  unless  some  one  else  treats  him.  He  will  hang  around 
the  bar  hour  after  hour  waiting  for  some  generous  young  man  to  come 
in.  The  generous  young  man  comes  in  and  accosts  him  and  says : 
"Well,  will  you  have  a  drink  with  me  to-day?  The  man,  as  though  it 
were  a  sudden  thing  for  him,  says,  "Well — well,  if  you  insist  on  it,  I 
will." 

Too  mean  to  go  to  perdition  unless  somebody  else  pays  his 
expense  ?  For  such  yonng  men  we  will  not  fight.  We  would  no 
more  contend  for  them  than  Tartary  and  Ethiopia  would  fight  as  to 
who  should  have  the  great  Sahara  desert,  but  for  those  young  men 
who  are  buoyant  and  enthusiastic,  those  who  are  determined  to  do 
something  for  time  and  for  eternity — for  them  we  will  fight,  and  we 
now  declare  everlasting  war  against  all  the  influences  that  assail  them 
and  we  ask  all  good  men  and  philanthropists  to  wheel  into  line,  and 
all  the  armies  of  heaven  to  bear  down  upon  the  foe,  and  we  pray 
Almighty  God  that  with  the  thunder  bolts  of  his  wrath  he  will  strike 
down  and  consume  all  these  influences  that  are  attempting  to  destroy 
the  young  men  for  whom  Christ  died. 

LIBERAL    MEN. 

The  first  class  of  temptations  that  assaults  a  young  man  is  led  on 
by  the  skeptic.  He  will  not  admit  that  he  is  an  infidel  or  an  atheist 
Oh,  no  !  He  is  a  "  free  thinker."  He  is  one  of  your  "  liberal"  men. 
He  is  free  and  easy  in  religion.  Oh,  how  liberal  he  is  !  He  is  so 
"liberal"  that  he  will  give  away  his  Bible.  He  is  so  "liberal"  that 
he  will  give  away  the  throne  of  eternal  justice.  He  is  so  "liberal" 
that  he  would  be  willing  to  give  God  out  of  the  universe.  He  is  so 
"liberal "  that  he  would  give  up  his  own  soul  and  the  souls  of  all  his 
friends.  Now,  what  more  could  you  ask  in  the  way  of  liberality  ?  The 
victim  of  this  skeptic  has  probably  just  come  from  the  country. 
Through  the  intervention  of  friends  he  has  been  placed  in  a  shop. 

On  Saturday  the  skeptic  says  to  him,  "  Well,  what  are  you 
going  to  do  to-morrow  ?"  He  says,  "I  am  going  to  church."  "Is  it 
possible?"  says  the  skeptic.  "Well,  I  used  to  do  those  things.  I 
was  brought  up,  1  suppose,  as  you  were,  in  a  religious  family,  and  I 
believed  all  those  things,  but  I  got  over  it.  The  fact  is,  since  I  came 


TRAPS  FOR  MEN.  483 

to  town  1  have  read  a  great  deal,  and  I  have  found  that  there  are  a 
great  many  things  in  the  Bible  that  are  rediculous.  Now,  for  instance, 
all  that  about  the  serpent  being  cursed  to  crawl  in  the  garden  of  Eden 
because  it  had  tempted  our  first  parent ;  why,  you  see  how  absurd  it 
is  ;  you  can  tell  from  the  very  organization  of  the  serpent  that  it  had 
to  crawl ;  it  crawled  before  it  was  cursed  just  as  well  as  it  did  after- 
wards ;  you  can  tell  from  its  organization  that  it  crawled.  Then  all 
that  story  about  the  whale  swallowing  Jonah,  or  Jonah  swallowing  the 
whale,  which  was  it  ?  It  don't  make  any  difference,  the  thing  is  absurd  ; 
it  is  rediculous  to  suppose  that  a  man  could  have  gone  down  through 
the  jaws  of  a  sea  monster  and  yet  kept  his  life  :  why,  his  respiration 
would  have  been  hindered  ;  he  would  have  been  digested  :  the  gastric 
juice  would  have  dissolved  the  fibrine  and  coagulated  albumen,  and 
Jonah  would  have  been  changed  from  prophet  into  chyle.  Then  all 
that  story  about  the  miraculous  conception — why,  it  is  perfectly 
disgraceful !  Oh,  sir,  I  believe  in  the  light  of  nature.  This  is  the 
Nineteenth  century.  Progress,  sir,  progress.  I  don't  blame  you, 
but  after  you  have  been  in  town  as  long  as  I  have  you  will  think  just 
as  I  do." 

Thousands  of  young  men  are  going  down  under  that  process  day 
by  day,  and  there  is  only  here  and  there  a  young  man  who  can  endure 
this  artillery  of  scorn.  They  are  giving  up  their  bibles.  The  light  of 
nature  !  They  have  the  light  of  nature  in  China;  they  have  it  in  Hin- 
dostan;  they  have  it  in  Ceylon.  Flowers  there,  stars  there,  waters 
there,  winds  there;  but  no  civilization,  no  homes,  no  happiness.  Lan- 
cets to  cut,  and  juggernauts  to  fall  under,  and  hooks  to  swing  to;  but 
no  happiness.  I  tell  you  my  young  brother,  we  have  to  take  a  relig- 
ion of  some  kind. 

We  have  to  choose  between  four  or  five.  Shall  it  be  the  Koran 
of  the  Mohammedan,  or  the  Shaster  of  the  Hindoo,  or  the  Zendavesta 
of  the  Persian,  or  the  Confucius  writings  of  the  Chinese,  or  the  Holy 
Scriptures?  Take  what  you  will;  God  helping  me,  I  will  take  the 
Bible.  Light  for  all  darkness;  rock  for  all  foundation;  balm  for  all 
wounds.  A  glory  that  lifts  its  pillars  of  fire  over  the  wilderness 
march. 

Do  not  give  up  your  bibles.  If  these  people  scoff  at  you  as 
though  religion  and  the  Bible  were  fit  only  for  weak-minded  people, 
you  just  tell  them  you  are  not  ashamed  to  be  in  the  company  of  Burice 


484  TRAPS  FOR  MEN. 

the  statesman,  and  Raphael  the  painter,  and  Thorwaldsen  the  sculp- 
tor, and  Mozart  the  musician,  and  Blackstone  the  lawyer,  and  Bacon 
the  philosopher,  and  Harvey  the  physician,  and  John  Milton  the  poet. 
Young  man,  hold  on  to  your  Bible;  it  is  the  best  book  you  ever 
owned.  It  will  tell  you  how  to  dress,  how  to  bargain,  how  to  walk, 
how  to  act,  how  to  live,  how  to  die.  Glorious  Bible  !  Whether  on 
parchment  or  paper,  in  octavo  or  duodecimo,  on  the  center  table  of 
the  drawing  room  or  in  the  counting  room  of  the  banker.  Glorious 
Bible  !  Light  to  our  feet  and  lamp  to  our  path.  Hold  on  to  it ! 

THE  DISHONEST  EMPLOYER. 

The  second  class  of  insidious  temptations  that  comes  upon  our 
young  men  is  led  on  by  the  dishonest  employer.  Every  commercial 
establishment  is  a  school.  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  the  principles  of 
the  employer  become  the  principles  of  the  employee.  I  ask  the  older 
merchants  to  bear  me  out  in  these  statements. 

If,  when  you  were  just  starting  in  life,  in  commercial  life,  you 
were  told  that  honesty  was  not  marketable,  that  though  you  might  sell 
all  the  goods  in  the  shop  you  must  not  sell  your  conscience,  that  while 
you  were  to  exercise  all  industry  and  tact  you  were  not  to  sell  your 
conscience — if  you  were  taught  that  gains  gotten  by  sin  were  com- 
bustible, and  at  the  moment  of  ignition  would  be  blown  on  by  the 
breath  of  God  until  all  the  splendid  estate  would  vanish  into  white 
ashes  scattered  in  the  whirlwind — then  that  instruction  has  been  to 
you  a  precaution  and  a  help  ever  since. 

There  are  hundreds  of  commercial  establishments  in  our  great  cities 
which  are  educating  a  class  of  young  men  who  will  be  the  honor  of  the 
land,  and  there  are  other  establishments  which  are  educating  young 
men  to  be  nothing  but  sharpers.  What  chance  is  there  for  a  young 
man  who  was  taught  in  an  establishment  that  it  is  right  to  lie,  if  it  is 
smart,  and  that  a  French  label  is  all  that  is  necessary  to  make  a  thing 
French,  and  that  you  ought  always  to  be  honest  when  it  pays,  and  that 
it  is  wrong  to  steal  unless  you  do  it  well  ? 

Suppose,  now,  a  young  man  just  starting  in  life  enters  a  place  of 
that  kind  where  there  are  ten  young  men,  all  drilled  in  the  infamous 
practices  of  the  establishment.  He  is  ready  to  be  taught.  The  young 
man  has  no  theory  or  commercial  ethics.  Where  is  he  to  get  his 
theory  ?  He  will  get  the  theory  from  his  employers. 


TRAPS  FOR  MEN.  485 

One  day  he  pushes  his  wit  a  little  beyond  what  the  establishment 
demands  of  him,  and  he  fleeces  a  customer  until  the  clerk  is  on  the 
verge  of  being  seized  by  the  law.  What  is  done  in  the  establishment? 
He  is  not  arraigned.  The  head  of  the  establishment  says'  to  him, 
"Now  be  careful,  be  careful,  young  man;  you  might  be  caught;  but 
really  that  was  spendidly  done;  you  will  get  along  in  the  world,  I  war- 
rant you."  Then  that  young  man  goes  up  until  he  becomes  head 
clerk.  He  has  found  there  is  a  premium  on  iniquity. 

One  morning  the  employer  comes  to  his  establishment.  He  goes 
into  his  counting  room  and  throws  up  his  hands  and  shouts,  "Why  the 
safe  has  been  robbed  !  "  What  is  the  matter?  Nothing,  nothing;  only 
the  clerk  who  has  been  practicing  a  good  while  on  customers  is  prac- 
ticing a  little  on  the  employer.  No  new  principle  introduced  into  that 
establishment.  It  is  a  poor  rule  that  will  not  work  both  ways.  You 
must  never  steal  unless  you  can  do  it  well.  He  did  it  well.  I  am  not 
talking  an  abstraction;  I  am  talking  a  terrible  and  a  crushing  fact. 

Now  here  is  a  young  man.  Look  at  him  to-day.  Look  at  him 
five  years  from  now,  after  he  has  been  under  trial  in  such  an  establish- 
ment. Here  he  stands  in  the  shop  to-day,  his  cheeks  ruddy  with  the 
breath  of  the  hills.  He  unrolls  the  goods  on  the  counter  in  gentle- 
manly style.  He  commends  them  to  the  purchaser.  He  points  out 
all  the  good  points  in  the  fabric.  He  effects  the  sale.  The  goods  are 
wrapped  up  and  he  dismisses  the  customer  with  a  cheerful  "  good 
morning,"  and  the  country  merchant  departs  so  impressed  with  the 
straightforwardness  of  that  young  man  that  he  will  come  again  and 
again,  every  spring  and  autumn,  unless  interfered  with. 

The  young  man  has  been  now  in  that  establishment  five  years. 
He  unrolls  the  goods  on  the  counter.  He  says  to  the  customer, 
"  Now  those  are  the  best  goods  we  have  in  our  establishment," — they 
have  better  on  the  next  shelf.  He  says,  "  We  are  selling  those  goods 
at  less  than  cost " — they  are  making  twenty  per  cent.  He  says, 
"  There  is  nothing  like  them  in  all  the  city" — there  are  fifty  shops  that 
want  to  sell  the  same  thing.  He  says,  "  Now,  that  is  a  durable  article, 
it  will  wash," — yes,  it  will  wash  out. 

The  sale  is  made,  the  goods  are  wrapped  up,  the  country  mer- 
chant goes  off  feeling  that  he  has  an  equivalent  for  his  money,  and  the 
sharp  clerk  goes  into  the  private  room  of  the  counting  house,  and  he. 
says,  "Well,  I  got  rid  of  those  goods  at  last;  "I  really  thought  we 


486  TKAPS  FOR  MEN. 

never  would  sell  them;  I  told  him  we  were  selling  them  at  less  than 
cost,  and  he  thought  he  was  getting  a  good  bargain;  got  rid  of  them 
at  last."  And  the  head  of  the  firm  says,  "That's  well  done;  splend- 
idly done  ! " 

Meanwhile  God  had  recorded  eight  lies — four  lies  against  the 
young  man,  and  four  lies  against  his  employer,  for  I  undertake  to  say 
that  the  employer  is  responsible  for  all  the  iniquities  of  his  clerks,  and 
all  the  inquities  of  those  who  are  clerks  of  these  clerks,  down  to  the 
tenth  generation,  if  those  employers  inculcated  iniquitous  and  dam- 
ning principles. 

Thousands  of  young  men  are  under  this  pressure.  I  say,  come 
out  of  it.  "Oh!"  you  say,  "I  can't;  I  have  my  widowed  mother  to 
support,  and  if  a  man  loses  a  situation  now  he  can't  get  another  one." 
I  say,  come  out  of  it.  Go  home  to  your  mother  and  say  to  her, 
"Mother,  I  can't  stay  in  that  shop  and  be  upright;  what  shall  I  do?  " 
and  if  she  is  worthy  of  you  she  will  say,  "  Come  out  of  it,  my  son — we 
will  just  throw  ourselves  on  him  who  hath  promised  to  be  the  God  of 
the  widow  and  the  fatherless;  he  will  take  care  of  us."  And  I  tell  you 
no  young  man  ever  permanently  suffered  by  such  a  course  of  conduct. 

In  Philadelphia  in  a  drug  shop  a  young  man  said  to  his  employer, 
"  I  want  to  please  you  really,  and  I  am  willing  to  sell  medicines  on 
Sunday;  but  I  can't  sell  this  patent  shoe  blacking  on  Sunday." 
"Well,"  said  the  head  man,  "you  will  have  to  do  it  or  else  you  will 
have  to  go  away."  The  young  man  said:  "  I  can't  do  it.  I  am  will- 
ing to  sell  medicines,  but  not  shoe  blacking."  "Well,  then,  go  !  Go 
now."  The  young  man  went  away.  The  Lord  looked  after  him. 
The  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars  he  won  in  this  world  were  the 
smallest  part  of  his  fortune.  God  honored  him.  By  the  course  he 
took  he  saved  his  soul  as  well  as  his  fortunes  in  the  future. 

A  man  said  to  his  employer:  "I  can't  wash  the  wagon  on  Sunday 
morning;  I  am  willing  to  wash  it  on  Saturday  afternoon;  but,  sir,  you 
will  please  excuse  me,  I  can't  wash  the  wagon  on  Sunday  morning." 
His  employer  said:  "  You  must  wash  it;  my  carriage  comes  in  every 
Saturday  night,  and  you  have  got  to  wash  it  on  Sunday  morning." 
"I  can't  do  it,"  the  man  said.  They  parted.  The  Lord  looked  after 
him,  grandly  looked  after  him.  He  is  worth  to-day  a  hundred  fold 
more  than  his  employer  ever  was  or  ever  will  be,  and  he  saved  his 
soul. 


TRAPS  FOR  MEN.  487 

SAFE    TO    DO    RIGHT. 

Young  men,  it  is  safe  to  do  right.  There  are  young  men  to-day 
who,  under  this  storm  of  temptation,  are  striking  deeper  and  deeper 
their  roots  and  spreading  out  broader  their  branches.  They  are 
Daniels  in  Babylon,  they  are  Josephs  in  the  Egyptian  court,  they  are 
Pauls  amid  the  wild  beasts  of  Ephesus. 

There  is  a  mistake  we  make  about  young  men.  We  put  them  in 
two  classes — the  one  class  is  moral,  the  other  is  dissolute.  The  moral 
are  safe.  The  dissolute  cannot  be  reclaimed.  I  deny  both  proposi- 
tions. The  moral  are  not  safe  unless  they  have  laid  hold  of  God,  and 
the  dissolute  may  be  reclaimed.  There  are  "self-righteous  men  in  this 
country  who  feel  no  need  of  God,  and  will  not  seek  after  him,  and  they 
will  go  out  in  the  world  and  they  will  be  tempted,  and  they  will  be 
flung  down  by  misfortune,  and  they  will  go  down,  down,  down,  until 
some  night  you  will  see  them  going  home  hooting,  raving,  shouting 
blasphemy — going  home  to  their  mother,  going  home  to  their  sister, 
going  home  to  the  young  companion  to  whom  only  a  little  while  ago, 
in  the  presence  of  a  brilliant  assemblage,  flashing  lights  and  orange 
blossoms,  and  censers  swinging  in  the  air,  they  promised  fidelity  and 
purity  and  kindness  perpetual. 

As  that  man  reaches  the  door  she  will  open  it,  not  with  an  outcry, 
but  she  will  stagger  back  from  the  door  as  he  comes  in,  and  in  her 
look  there  will  be  the  prophecy  of  woes  that  are  coming,  want  that  will 
shiver  in  need  of  fire,  hunger  that  will  cry  in  vain  for  bread,  cruelties 
that  will  not  leave  the  heart  when  they  have  crushed  it,  but  pinch  it  again, 
and  stab  it  again,  until  some  night  she  will  open  the  door  of  the  place 
where  her  companion  was  ruined,  and  she  will  fling  out  her  arm  from 
under  her  ragged  shawl  and  say,  with  almost  omnipotent  eloquence  ; 
"  Give  me  back  my  husband  !  Give  me  back  my  protector  !  Give 
me  back  my  all!  Him  of  the  kind  heart  and  gentle  words  and  the 
manly  brow — give  him  back  to  me  !"  And  then  the  wretches,  obese 
and  filthy,  will  push  back  their  matted  locks,  and  they  will  say  :  "  Put 
her  out !  Put  her  out !"  Oh,  self-righteous  man,  without  God  you  are 
in  peril !  Seek  after  him  to-day.  Amid  the  ten  thousand  temptations 
of  life  there  is  no  safety  for  a  man  without  God. 

Is  there  a  voice  within  you  saying,  "What  did  you  do  that  for? 
Why  did  you  go  there  ?  What  did  you  mean  by  that  ?  Is  there  a 
memory  in  your  soul  that  makes  you  tremble  ?  God  only  knows  all 


488  TRAPS  FOR  MEN. 

our  hearts.  Yea,  if  you  have  gone  so  far  as  to  commit  iniquities,  and 
have  gone  through  the  whole  catalogue,  I  invite  you  back.  The  Lord 
waits  for  you.  "Rejoice!  oh,  young  man,  in  thy  youth,  and  let  thy 
heart  cheer  thee  in  the  days  of  thy  youth;  but  know  thou  that  for  all 
these  things  God  will  bring  thee  into  judgment." 

Come  home,  young  man,  to  your  father's  God.  Come  home, 
young  man,  to  your  mother's  God.  Oh,  I  wish  that  all  the  batteries 
of  the  Gospel  could  be  unlimbered  against  all  those  influences  which 
are  taking  down  so  many  of  our  young  men.  I  would  like  to  blow  a 
trumpet  of  warning  and  recruit  until  an  army  of  reform  would  march 
out  on  a  crusade  against  the  evils  of  society.  But  let  none  of  us  be 
disheartened. 

Oh,  Christian  workers,  my  heart  is  high  with  hope.  The  dark 
horizon  is  blooming  into  the  morning  of  which  prophets  spoke,  and  of 
which  poets  have  dreamed,  and  of  which  painters  have  sketched.  The 
world's  bridal  hour  advances.  The  mountains  will  kiss  the  morning 
radiant  and  effulgent,  and  all  the  waves  of  the  sea  will  become  the 
crystal  keys  of  a  great  organ,  on  which  the  fingers  of  everlasting  joy 
shall  play  the  grand  march  of  a  world  redeemed.  Instead  of  the  thorn 
there  shall  come  up  the  fir  tree,  and  instead  of  the  briar  there  shall 
come  up  the  myrtle  tree,  and  the  mountains  and  the  hills  shall  break 
forth  into  singing,  and  all  the  trees  of  the  wood  shall  clap  their  hands  ! 


THE  OBJECT  OF  LIFE 
BY  REV.  T.  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


BY  the  time  a  chifd  reaches  ten  years  of  age  the  parents  begin  to 
discover  that  child's  destiny ;  but  by  the  time  he  or  she  reaches 
fifteen  years  of  age  the  question  is  on  the  chile's  own  lips:  "  What 
am  I  to  be  ?  What  was  I  made  for  ?  "  It  is  a  sensible  and  righteous 
question,  and  the  youth  ought  to  keep  on  asking  it  until  it  is  so  fully 
answered  that  the  young  man  or  the  young  woman  can  say  with  the 
fullest  conviction,  "To  this  end  was  I  born." 

There  is  too  much  divine  skill  shown  in  the  physical,  mental  and 
moral  constitution  of  the  ordinary  human  being  to  suppose  that  he 
was  constructed  without  any  divine  purpose.  If  you  take  me  out  on 
some  vast  plain  and  show  me  a  pillared  temple  surmounted  by  a 
dome  like  St.  Peter's,  and  having  a  floor  of  precious  stones,  and 
arches  that  must  have  taxed  the  brain  of  the  greatest  draughtsman  to 
design,  and  walls  scrolled  and  niched  and  paneled  and  wainscoted  and 
painted,  and  I  should  ask  you  what  this  building  was  put  up  for,  and 
you  answered,  "For  nothing  at  all,"  how  could  I  believe  you? 

And  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  believe  that  any  ordinary  human 
being,  who  has  in  his  muscular,  nervous  and  cerebral  organization 
more  wonders  than  Christopher  Wren  lifted  in  St.  Paul's  or  Phidias 
ever  chiseled  on  the  Acropolis,  and  built  in  such  a  way  that  it  shall  last 
long  after  St.  Paul's  cathedral  is  as  much  a  ruin  as  the  Parthenon — 
that  such  a  being  was  constructed  lor  no  purpose  and  to  execute  no 
mission  and  without  any  divine  intention  toward  some  end. 

NOT   WHOLLY   RESPONSIBLE. 

I  discharge  you  from  all  responsibility  for  most  of  your  environ- 
ments. You  are  not  responsible  for  your  parentage  or  grandparent- 
age.  You  are  not  responsible  for  any  of  the  cranks  that  have  lived 
in  your  ancestral  line,  and  who,  a  hundred  years  before  you  were 
born,  may  have  lived  a  style  of  life  that  more  or  less  affects  you. 

489 


Af)Q  THE  OBJECT  OF  LIFE. 

You  are  not  responsible  for  the  fact  that  your  temperament 
is  sanguine  or  melancholic  or  bilious  or  lymphatic  or  nervous.  Neither 
are  you  responsible  for  the  place  of  your  nativity,  whether  among  the 
granite  hills  of  New  England,  or  the  cotton  plantations  of  Louisiana, 
or  on  the  banks  of  the  Clyde,  or  the  Dneiper,  or  the  Shannon,  or 
the  Seine.  Neither  are  you  responsible  for  the  religion  taught  in  your 
father's  house,  or  the  irreligion.  Do  not  bother  yourself  about  what 
you  cannot  help,  or  about  circumstances  that  you  did  not  decree. 

Take  things  as  they  are  and  decide  the  question  so  that  you  snail 
be  able  safely  to  say,  "  To  this  end  was  I  born."  How  will  you  decide 
it  ?  By  direct  application  to  the  only  Being  in  the  universe  who  is 
competent  to  tell  you — the  Lord  Almighty.  He  is  the  only  being  who 
can  see  what  has  been  happening  for  the  last  five  hundred  years  in 
your  ancestral  line,  and  for  thousands  of  years  clear  back  to  Adam, 
and  there  is  not  one  person  in  all  that  ancestral  line  of  six  thousand 
years  but  has  somehow  affected  your  character,  and  even  old  Adam 
himself  will  sometimes  turn  up  in  your  disposition.  The  only  Being 
who  can  take  all  things  that  pertain  to  you  into  consideration  is  God, 
and  He  is  the  only  one  you  can  ask.  Life  is  so  short  we  have  no 
time  to  experiment  with  occupations  and  professions. 

CAUSE    OF    FAILURE. 

The  reason  we  have  so  many  dead  failures  is  that  parents  decide  for 
children  what  they  shall  do,  or  children  themselves,  wrought  on  by 
some  whim  or  fancy,  decide  for  themselves  without  any  imploration  of 
divine  guidance.  So  it  is  that  we  have  now  in  pulpits,  men  making 
sermons  who  ought  to  be  in  blacksmith  shops  making  plowshares,  and 
we  have  in  the  law  those  who  instead  of  ruining  the  cases  of  their 
clients  ought  to  be  pounding  shoe  lasts,  and  we  have  doctors  who 
are  the  worst  hindrances  to  their  patients'  convalescence,  and  artists 
trying  to  paint  landscapes  who  ought  to  be  whitewashing  board  fences, 
while  there  are  others  making  bricks  who  ought  to  be  remodeling 
constitutions,  or  shoving  planes  who  ought  to  be  transforming 
literatures. 

Ask  God  about  what  worldly  business  you  shall  undertake, 
until  you  are  so  positive  that  you  can  in  earnestness  smite  your 
hand  on  your  plow  handle,  or  your  carpenter's  bench,  or  your 
Blackstone's  "Commentaries,"  or  your  medical  dictionary,  or  your 


THE  OBJECT  OF  LIFE.  49! 

Dr.  Dick's  "Didactic  Theology,"  saying,  "For  this  end  I  was  born." 

NATURAL   TENDENCIES. 

There  are  children  who  early  develop  natural  affinities  for  certain 
styles  of  work.  When  the  father  of  the  astronomer  Forbes  was 
going  to  London  he  asked  his  children  what  present  he  should  bring 
each  one  of  them.  The  boy  who  was  to  be  an  astronomer  cried  out, 
"  Bring  me  a  telescope  !"  And  there  are  children  whom  you  find  all, 
by  themselves  drawing  on  their  slates  or  on  paper,  ships  or  houses 
or  birds,  and  you  know  they  are  to  be  draughtsmen  or  artists  of  some 
kind.  And  you  find  others  ciphering  out  difficult  problems  with  rare 
interest  and  success,  and  you  know  they  are  to  be  mathematicians. 
And  others  making  wheels  and  strange  contrivances,  and  you  know 
they  are  going  to  be  machinists.  And  others  are  found  experimenting 
with  hoe  and  plow  and  sickle,  and  you  know  they  will  be  farmers. 
And  others  are  always  swapping  jackknives  or  balls  or  bats  and 
making  something  by  the  bargain,  and  they  are  going  to  be  merchants. 
When  the  Abbe  de  Ranee  had  so  advanced  in  studying  Greek  that 
he  could  translate  Anacreon  at  twelve  years  of  age,  there  was  no 
doubt  left  that  he  was  intended  for  a  scholar. 

But  in  almost  every  lad  there  comes  a  time  when  he  does  not  know 
what  he  was  made  for,  and  his  parents  do  not  know,  and  it  is  a  crisis 
that  God  only  can  decide.  There  are  those  born  for  some  especial 
work,  and  their  fitness  does  not  develop  until  quite  late.  When  Philip 
Doddridge,  whose  sermons  and  books  have  harvested  uncounted 
souls  for  glory,  began  to  study  for  the  ministry,  Dr.  Calamy,  one  of 
the  wisest  and  best  men,  advised  him  to  turn  his  thoughts  to  some 
other  work.  Isaac  Barrow,  the  eminent  clergyman  and  Christian 
scientist — his  books  standard  now  though  he  has  been  dead  over  two 
hundred  years — was  the  disheartenment  of  his  father,  who  used  to  say 
that  if  it  pleased  God  to  take  any  of  his  children  away  he  hoped  it 
would  be  his  son  Isaac.  So  some  of  those  who  have  been  charac- 
terized for  their  stupidity  in  boyhood  or  girlhood  have  turned  out  the 
mightiest  benefactors  of  the  human  race. 

These  things  being  so,  am  I  not  right  in  saying  that  in  many  cases 
God  only  knows  what  is  the  most  appropriate  thing  for  you  to  do,  and 
he  is  the  one  to  ask.  Let  all  parents,  and  all  schools,  and  all  univer- 
sities, and  all  colleges  recognize  this,  and  then  a  large  number  of 


492  THE   OBJECT  OF  LIFE. 

those  who  spend  their  best  years  in  stumbling  about  among  businesses 
and  occupations,  now  trying  this  and  now  trying  that,  and  failing 
in  all,  would  be  able  to  go  ahead  with  a  definite,  decided  and  tremend- 
ous purpose,  saying,  "To  this  end  was  I  born." 

This  thought  now  mounts  into  the  momentous.  Let  me  say  that 
you  are  made  for  usefulness  and  heaven.  I  judge  this  from  the  way 
you  are  built.  You  go  into  a  shop  where  there  is  only  one  wheel 
turning,  and  that  by  a  workman's  foot  on  a  treadle,  and  you  say  to 
yourself,  "Here  is  something  good  being  done,  yet  on  a  small  scale;" 
but  if  you  go  into  a  factory  covering  many  acres,  and  you  find 
thousands  of  bands  pulling  on  thousands  of  wheels,  and  shuttles  flying, 
and  the  whole  scene  bewildering  with  activities,  driven  by  water  or 
steam  or  electric  power,  you  conclude  that  the  factory  was  put  up  to 
do  great  work  and  on  a  vast  scale. 

I  look  at  you,  and  if  I  should  find  that  you  had  only  one  faculty  of 
body,  only  one  muscle,  only  one  nerve,  if  you  could  see  but  could  not 
hear,  or  could  hear  and  not  see,  if  you  had  the  use  of  only  one  foot  or 
one  hand,  and,  as  to  you  higher  nature,  if  you  had  only  one  mental 
faculty,  and  you  had  memory  but  no  judgment,  or  judgment  but  no 
will,  and  if  you  had  a  soul  with  only  one  capacity,  I  would  say  not 
much  is  expected  of  you. 

But  stand  up,  O  man,  and  let  me  look  you  squarely  in  the  face. 
Eyes  capable  of  seeing  everything.     Ears  capable  of  hearing  every 
thing.     Hands    capable   of  grasping   everything.      Mind   with    more 
wheels  than  any  factory  ever  turned,  more  power  than  any  Corliss 
engine    ever   displayed.     A   soul   that  will   outlive    all   the    universe 
except   heaven,    and   would   outlive   all   heaven    if  the  life  of  other 
immortals  were  a  moment  short  of  the  eternal.     Now,  what  has  the 
world  a  right  to  expect  of  you  ?    What  has  God  a  right  to  demand  of 
you  ?    God  is  the  greatest  of  economists  in  the  universe,  and  he  makes 
nothing  uselessly,  and  for  what  purpose  did  he  build  your  body,  mind 
and  soul  as  they  are  built  ? 

There  are  only  two  beings  in  the  universe  who  can  answer  that 
question.  The  angels  do  not  know.  The  schools  do  not  know. 
Your  kindred  cannot  certainly  know.  God  knows  and  you  ought  to 
know.  A  factory  running  at  an  expense  of  five  hundred  thousand 
dollars  a  year  and  turning  out  goods  worth  seventy  cents  a  year  would 
not  be  such  an  incongruity  as  you,  O  man,  with  such  semi-infinite 


THE  OBJECT  OF  LIFE.  493 

equipment  doing  nothing  or  next  to  nothing  in  the  way  of  usefulness. 

Do  not  wait  for  extraordinary  qualifications.  Philip  of  Macedon, 
gained  his  greatest  victories  seated  on  a  mule,  and  if  you  wait  for 
some  caparisoned  Bucephalus  to  ride  into  the  conflict,  you  will  never 
get  into  the  world-wide  fight  at  all.  Samson  slew  the  Lord's  enemies 
with  the  jawbone  of  the  stupidist  beast  created.  Shamgar  slew  six 
hundred  of  the  Lord's  enemies  with  an  ox-goad.  Under  God,  spittle 
cured  the  blind  man's  eyes  in  the  New  Testament  story.  Take  all 
the  faculty  you  have  and  say:  "  O  Lord !  Here  is  what  I  have,  show 
me  the  field  and  back  me  up  by  omnipotent  power.  Anywhere, 
anyhow,  any  time  for  God." 

Two  men  riding  on  horseback  stopped  at  a  trough  to  water  the 
horses.  While  the  horses  were  drinking,  one  of  the  men  said  to  the 
other  a  few  words  about  the  value  of  the  soul;  and  then  they  rode 
away  and  in  opposite  directions.  But  the  words  uttered  were  the 
salvation  of  the  one  to  whom  they  were  uttered,  and  he  became  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Champion,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  missionaries  in 
heathen  lands.  For  years  he  wondered  who  had  done  for  him  this 
Christian  kindness,  and  did  not  discover  until,  in  a  bundle  of  books 
sent  him  to  Africa,  he  found  the  biography  of  Brainerd  Taylor,  and  a 
picture  of  him.  The  missionary  recognized  the  face  in  this  book  as 
that  of  the  man  who,  at  the  watering  trough  for  horses,  had  said  the 
thing  that  saved  his  soul.  What  opportunities  you  have  had  in  the 
past  !  What  opportunities  you  have  now  !  What  opportunities  you 
will  have  in  the  days  to  come  ! 

Do  not  be  satisfied  with  general  directions.  Get  specific  directions. 
Do  not  shoot  at  random.  Take  aim  and  fire.  Concentrate.  Napo- 
leon's success  in  battle  came  from  his  theory  of  breaking  through  the 
enemy's  ranks  at  one  point,  not  trying  to  meet  the  whole  line  of  the 
enemy's  force  by  a  similar  force.  One  reason  why  he  lost  Waterloo 
was  because  he  did  not  work  his  usual  theory,  but  spread  his  force 
out  over  a  wide  range.  Oh,  Christian  man,  oh,  Christian  woman, 
break  through  somewhere.  Not  a  general  engagement  for  God,  but 
a  particular  engagement,  and  made  in  answer  to  prayer.  If  there  are 
sixteen  hundred  million  people  in  the  world,  then  there  are  sixteen 
hundred  million  different  missions  to  fulfill,  different  styles  of  work 
to  do,  different  orbits  in  which  to  revolve,  and  if  you  do 
not  get  the  divine  direction  there  are  at  least  fifteen  hundred  and 


494  THE  OBJECT  OF  LIFE. 

ninety-nine    million    possibilities    that    you     will    make    a    mistake. 

We  are  all  rejoiced  at  the  increase  in  human  longevity.  People 
live,  as  near  as  I  can  observe,  about  ten  years  longer  than  they  used 
to.  The  modern  doctors  do  not  bleed  their  patients  on  all  occasions 
as  did  the  former  doctors.  In  those  times,  if  a  man  had  fever  they 
bled  him,  if  he  had  consumption  they  bled  him,  if  he  had  rheumatism 
they  bled  him,  and  if  they  could  not  make  out  exactly  what  was  the 
matter  they  bled  him.  Olden  time  phlebotomy  was  death's  coadjutor. 

All  this  has  changed.  From  the  way  I  see  people  skipping  about 
at  eighty  years  of  age,  I  conclude  that  life  insurance  companies  will 
have  to  change  their  table  of  risks  and  charge  a  man  no  more 
premium  at  seventy  than  they  used  to  do  when  he  was  sixty,  and  no 
more  premium  at  fifty  than  when  he  was  forty.  By  the  advancement 
of  medical  science,  and  the  wider  acquaintance  with  the  laws  of  health, 
and  the  fact  that  people  know  better  how  to  take  care  of  themselves, 
human  life  is  prolonged. 

HEAVENLY    DURATION. 

The  world  does  very  well  for  a  little  while — eighty  or  a  hundred  or 
a  hundred  and  fifty  years — and  I  think  that  human  longevity  may  yet 
be  improved  up  to  that  prolongation;  for  now  there  is  so  little  room 
between  our  cradle  and  our  grave  we  cannot  accomplish  much.  But 
who  would  want  to  dwell  in  this  world  for  all  eternity  ?  Some  think 
this  earth  will  be  turned  into  a  heaven.  Perhaps  it  may,  but  it  would 
have  to  undergo  radical  repairs,  and  go  through  eliminations  and 
evolutions  and  revolutions  and  transformations  infinite  to  make  it 
desirable  for  eternal  residence. 

All  the  east  winds  would  have  to  become  west  winds,  and  all  the 
winters  changed  to  springtides,  and  the  volcanoes  extinguished,  and 
the  oceans  chained  to  their  beds,  and  the  epidemics  forbidden 
entrance,  and  the  world  so  fixed  up  that  I  think  it  would  take  more  to 
repair  this  old  world  than  to  make  an  entirely  new  one.  But  I  must 
say  I  do  not  care  where  heaven  is  if  we  can  only  get  there,  whether  a 
gardenized  America  or  an  emparadised  Europe,  or  a  world  central  to 
the  whole  universe.  If  each  one  of  us  could  say  that,  we  would  go 
with  faces  shining  and  hopes  exhilarant  amid  earth's  worst  misfortunes 
and  trials.  Only  a  little  while  and  then  the  rapture.  Only  a  little  while 
and  then  the  reunion.  Only  a  little  while  and  then  the  transfiguration. 


THE  OBJECT  OF  LIFE  49- 

In  the  Seventeenth  century  all  Europe  was  threatened  with  a  wave 
of  Asiatic  barbarism,  and  Vienna  was  especially  besieged.  The  king 
and  his  court  had  fled,  and  nothing  could  save  the  city  from  being 
overwhelmed  unless  the  king  of  Poland,  John  Sobieski,  to  whom  they 
had  sent  for  help,  should  with  his  army  come  down  for  the  relief,  and 
from  every  roof  and  tower  the  inhabitants  of  Vienna  watched  and 
waited  and  hoped  until,  on  the  morning  of  September  1 1,  the  rising 
sun  threw  an  unusual  and  unparalleled  brilliancy.  It  was  the  reflection 
on  the  swords  and  shields  and  helmets  of  John  Sobieski  and  his  army 
coming  down  over  the  hills  to  the  rescue,  and  that  day  not  only  Vienna, 
but  Europe,  was  saved.  And  you  see  not,  O  ye  souls  besieged  with 
sin  and  sorrow,  that  light  breaks  in,  the  swords,  and  the  shields,  and 
the  helmets  of  divine  rescue  bathed  in  the  rising  sun  of  heavenly 
deliverance  ?  Let  everything  else  go  rather  than  let  heaven  go.  What 
a  strange  thing  it  must  be  to  feel  one's  self  born  to  an  earthly  crown; 
but  you  have  been  born  for  a  throne  on  which  you  may  reign  after  the 
last  monarch  of  all  the  earth  shall  have  gone  to  dust. 


A  HALF  HOUR  IN  HEAVEN 
BY  REV.  T  DEWITT  TALMAGE 


The  busiest  place  in  the  universe  is  heaven.  It  is  the  center  from 
which  all  good  influences  start ;  it  is  the  goal  at  which  all  good  results 
arrive.  The  Bible  represents  it  as  active  with  wheels  and  wings  and 
orchestras  and  processions  mounted  or  charioted.  But  it  also  speaks 
of  a  time  when  the  wheels  ceased  to  roll,  and  the  trumpets  to  sound, 
and  the  voices  to  chant.  The  riders  on  the  white  horses  reined  in 
*heir  chargers.  The  doxologies  were  hushed  and  the  processions 
halted.  The  hand  of  arrest  was  put  upon  all  the  splendors.  "  Stop, 
heaven  ! "  cried  an  omnipotent  voice,  and  it  stopped.  For  thirty 
minutes  everything  celestial  stood  still.  "There  was  silence  in  heaven 
for  half  an  hour. 

From  all  we  can  learn  this  is  the  only  time  heaven  ever  stopped. 
It  does  not  stop  as  other  cities,  for  the  night,  for  there  is  no  night 
there.  It  does  not  stop  for  a  plague,  for  the  inhabitant  never  says,  "I 
am  sick."  It  does  not  stop  for  bankruptcies,  for  its  inhabitants  never 
fail.  It  does  not  stop  for  impassible  streets,  for  there  are  no  falling 
snows  nor  sweeping  freshets.  What,  then  stopped  it  for  thirty  min- 
utes ?  Grotius  and  Professor  Stuart  think  that  it  was  at  the  time  of 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem.  Mr.  Lord  thinks  that  it  was  in  the  year 
311,  between  the  close  of  the  Diocletian  persecution  and  the  beginning 
of  the  wars  by  which  Constantine  gained  the  throne.  But  these  were 
simply  guesses.  I  do  not  know  nor  care  when  it  was,  but  of  the  fact 
that  such  an  interregnum  of  sound  took  place  I  am  certain. 

And,  first  of  all,  we  may  learn  that  God  and  all  heaven  honored 
silence.  The  longest  and  widest  dominion  that  ever  existed  is  that 
over  which  stillness  was  queen.  For  an  eternity  there  was  not  a  sound, 
World  making  was  a  later-day  occupation.  For  unimaginable  ages  the 
universe  was  mute,  God  was  the  onlv  being,  and  as  there  was  DO  one 
496 


A  HALF  HOUR  IN  HEAVEN.  497 

to  speak  to  there  was  no  utterance.  But  that  silence  has  been  all 
broken  up  into  worlds,  and  there  has  arisen  a  noisy  universe.  Worlds 
in  upheavel,  worlds  in  congelation,  worlds  in  conflagration,  worlds  in 
revolution. 

If  geologists  are  right  (and  I  believe  they  are)  there  has  not  been 
a  moment  of  silence  since  this  world  began  its  travels,  and  the 
crashings,  and  the  splittings,  and  the  uproar,  and  the  hubbub  are  ever 
in  progress.  But  when  among  the  supernals  a  voice  cried,  "  Hush  !  " 
and  for  half  an  hour  heaven  was  still,  silence  was  honored.  The  full 
power  of  silence  many  of  us  have  yet  to  learn.  We  are  told  that  when 
Christ  was  arraigned  "  He  answered  not  a  word."  That  silence  was 
louder  than  any  thunder  that  ever  shook  the  world. 

Ofttimes,  when  we  are  assailed  and  misrepresented,  the  mightiest 
thing  to  say  is  to  say  nothing,  and  the  mightiest  thing  to  do  is  to  do 
nothing.  Those  people  who  are  always  rushing  into  print  to  get 
themselves  set  right  accomplish  nothing  but  their  own  chagrin.  Be 
silent !  Do  right  and  leave  the  results  with  God.  Among  the  grandest 
lessons  the  world  has  ever  learned  are  the  lessons  of  patience  taught 
by  those  who  endured  uncomplainingly  personal  or  domestic,  or  social 
or  political  injustice.  Stronger  than  any  bitter  or  sarcastic  or  revenge- 
ful answer  was  the  patient  silence. 

The  famous  Dr.  Morrison,  of  Chelsea,  accomplished  as  much  by 
his  silent  patience  as  by  his  pen  and  tongue.  He  had  asthma  that  for 
twenty-five  years  brought  him  out  of  his  couch  at  two  o'clock  each 
morning.  His  four  sons  and  daughters  were  dead.  The  remaining 
child  had  been  made  insane  by  sunstroke.  The  afflicted  man  said, 
"At  this  moment  there  is  not  an  inch  of  my  body  that  is  not  filled 
with  agony."  Yet  he  was  cheerful,  triumphant,  silent.  Those  who 
were  in  his  presence  said  they  felt  as  though  they  were  in  the  gates  of 
heaven. 

Oh,  the  power  of  patient  silence  !  Eschylus,  the  'immortal  poet, 
was  condemned  to  death  for  writing  something  that  offended  the 
people.  All  the  pleas  in  his  behalf  were  of  no  avail  until  his  brother 
uncovered  the  arm  of  the  prisoner  and  showed  that  his  hand  had  been 
shot  off  at  Salamis.  That  silent  plea  liberated  him.  The  loudest 
thing  on  earth  is  silence  if  it  be  of  the  right  kind  and  at  the  right  time. 
There  was  a  quaint  old  hymn,  spelled  in  the  old  style,  and  once  sung 
in  the  churches : 


498  A  HAFL  HOUR  IN  HE  A  YEN. 

The  race  is  not  forever  got 

By  him  who  fastest  runs. 
Nor  the  battle  by  those  peopell 

That  shoot  with  the  longest  guns. 

The  tossing  Sea  of  Galilee  seemed  most  to  offend  Christ  by  the 
amount  of  noise  it  made,  for  he  said,  "  Be  still ! "  Heaven  has  been 
crowning  kings  and  queens  unto  God  for  many  centuries,  yet  heaven 
never  stopped  a  moment  for  any  such  occurrence,  but  it  stopped  thirty 
minutes  for  the  coronation  of  Silence. 

Heaven  must  be  an  eventful  and  attractive  place,  from  the  fact 
that  it  could  afford  only  thirty  minutes  of  recess.  There  have  been 
events  on  earth  and  in  heaven  that  seemed  to  demand  a  whole  day 
or  a  whole  week  or  a  whole  year  for  celestial  consideration.  If 
Grotius  was  right,  and  silence  occurred  at  the  time  of  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem,  that  scene  was  so  awful  and  so  prolonged  that  the 
inhabitants  of  heaven  could  not  have  done  justice  to  it  in  many  weeks. 
After  fearful  besiegement  of  the  two  fortresses  of  Jerusalem  had  been 
going  on  for  a  long  while,  a  Roman  soldier  mounted  on  the  shoulders 
of  another  soldier  hurled  into  the  window  of  the  temple  a  fire-brand 
and  the  temple  was  all  aflame  and,  after  covering  many  sacrifices  to 
the  holiness  of  God,  the  building  itself  became  a  sacrifice  to  the  rage 
of  man. 

The  hunger  of  the  people  in  that  city  during  the  siege  was  so 
great  that,  as  some  outlaws  were  passing  a  doorway  and  inhaling  the 
odors  of  food,  they  burst  open  the  door,  threatening  the  mother  of  the 
household  with  death  unless  she  gave  them  some  food,  and  she  took 
them  aside  and  showed  them  that  irwas  her  own  child  that  she  was 
cooking  for  the  ghastly  repast.  Six  hundred  priests  were  destroyed 
on  Mount  Zion  because  the  temple  being  gone  there  was  nothing  for 
them  to  do.  Six  thousand  people  in  one  cloister  were  consumed. 
There  were  one  million  one  hundred  dead,  according  to  Josephus. 
Grotius  thinks  that  this  was  the  cause  of  silence  in  heaven  for  half  an 
hour. 

If  Mr.  Lord  was  right  and  this  silence  was  during  the  Diocletian 
persecutions,  by  wh:ch  eight  hundred  and  forty-four  thousand  Christians 
suffered  death  from  sword  and  fire  and  banishment  and  exposure,  why 
did  not  heaven  listen  throughout  at  least  one  of  those  awful  years? 
No  !  Thirty  minutes  !  The  fact  is  that  the  celestial  programme  is  so 
crowded  with  spectacle  that  it  can  afford  only  one  recess  in  all  eternity, 


A  HALF  HOUR  IN  HE  A  VEN.  499 

and  that  for  a  short  space.  While  there  are  great  choruses  in  which 
all  heaven  can  join,  each  soul  there  has  a  story  of  divine  mercy  peculiar 
to  itself,  and  it  must  be  a  solo.  How  can  heaven  get  through  with  all 
its  recitatives,  with  all  its  cantos,  with  all  its  grand  marches,  with  all  its 
victories  ?  Eternity  is  too  short  to  utter  all  the  praise. 

How  busy  we  will  be  kept  in  having  pointed  out  to  us  the  heroes 
and  heroines  that  the  world  never  fully  appreciated — the  yellow  fever 
and  cholera  doctors  who  died,  not  flying  from  their  posts  ;  the  female 
nurses  who  faced  pestilence  in  the  lazarettos  ;  the  railroad  engineers 
who  stayed  at  their  places  in  order  to  save  the  train,  though  they 
themselves  perished  !  Hubert  Goffin,  the  master  miner,  who,  landing 
from  the  bucket  at  the  bottom  of  the  mine  just  as  he  heard  the  waters 
rush  in,  and  when  one  jerk  at  the  rope  would  have  lifted  him  into 
safety,  put  a  blind  miner  who  wanted  to  go  to  his  sick  child,  in  the 
bucket,  and  jerked  the  rope  for  him  to  be  pulled  up,  crying,  "Tell 
them  the  water  has  burst  in  and  we  are  probably  lost ;  but  we  will 
seek  refuge  at  the  other  end  of  the  right  gallery,"  and  then  gave  the 
command  to  the  other  miners  till  they  digged  themselves  so  near  out 
that  the  people  from  the  outside  could  come  to  their  rescue.  This 
man  will  be  one  of  the  heroes  of  heaven.  The  multitudes  of  men  and 
women  who  got  no  crown  on  earth,  we  will  want  to  see  when  they  get 
their  crowns  in  heaven.  I  tell  you  heaven  will  have  no  more  half  hours 
to  spare. 

Besides  that,  heaven  is  full  of  children.  They  are  in  the  vast 
majority.  No  child  on  earth  that  amounts  to  anything  can  be  kept 
quiet  half  an  hour,  and  how  are  you  going  to  keep  five  hundred 
million  of  them  quiet  half  an  hour?  You  know  heaven  is  much  more 
of  a  place  than  it  was  when  that  recess  of  thirty  minutes  occurred.  Its 
population  has  quadrupled,  sextupled,  centupled.  Heaven  has  more 
on  hand,  more  of  rapture,  more  of  knowledge,  more  of  intercommuni- 
cation, more  of  worship. 

There  is  not  so  much  difference  between  Brooklyn  seventy-five 
years  ago,  when  there  were  a  few  houses  down  on  the  East  river  and 
the  village  reached  up  only  to  Sands  street,  as  compared  with  what 
that  great  city  is  now — yea,  not  so  much  difference  between  New  York 
when  Canal  street  was  far  uptown  and  now,  when  Canal  street  is  far 
down  town — than  there  is  a  difference  between  what  heaven  was  when 
this  silence  took  place  and  what  heaven  is  now.  The  most  thrilling 


5o0  A  HALF  HOUR  IN  HEAVEN. 

place  we  have  ever  been  in  is  stupid  compared  with  that,  and  if  we 
now  have  no  time  to  spare  we  will  then  have  no  eternity  to  spare. 
Silence  in  heaven  only  half  an  hour ! 

That  half  hour  is  more  widely  known  than  any  other  period  in  the 
calendar  of  heaven.  None  of  the  whole  hours  of  heaven  are  measured 
off,  none  of  the  years,  none  of  the  centuries.  Of  the  millions  of  ages 
past  and  the  millions  of  ages  to  come,  not  one  is  especially  measured 
off  in  the  Bible.  The  half  hour  of  my  text  is  made  immortal.  The 
only  part  of  eternity  that  was  ever  measured  by  earthly  timepiece  was 
measured  by  the  minute  hand  of  my  text. 

Oh,  the  half  hours  !  They  decide  everything.  I  am  not  asking 
what  you  will  do  with  the  years  or  months  or  days  of  your  life,  but 
what  of  the  half  hours  ?  Tell  me  the  history  of  your  half  hours  and  I 
will  tell  you  the  story  of  your  whole  life  on  earth  and  the  story  of  your 
whole  life  in  eternity.  The  right  or  wrong  things  you  can  think  in 
thirty  minutes,  the  right  or  wrong  things  you  can  say  in  thirty  minutes, 
the  right  or  wrong  things  you  can  do  in  thirty  minutes  are  glorious  or 
baleful,  inspiring  or  desperate.  Look  out  for  the  fragments  of  time. 
They  are  pieces  of  eternity.  It  was  the  half  hours  between  shoeing 
horses  that  made  Elihu  Burritt  the  learned  blacksmith ;  the  half  hours 
between  professional  calls  as  a  physician  that  made  Abercrombie  the 
Christian  philosopher ;  the  half  hours  between  his  duties  as  a  school- 
master that  made  Salmon  P.  Chase  chief  justice  ;  the  half  hours  between 
.shoe  lasts  that  made  Henry  Wilson  vice-president  of  the  United 
States  ;  the  half  hours  between  canal  boats  that  made  James  A.  Gar, 
field  president. 

The  half  hour  a  day  for  good  or  bad  books,  the  half  hour  a  day  for 
prayer  or  indolence,  the  half  hour  a  day  for  helping  others  or  blasting 
others,  the  half  hour  before  you  go  to  business,  and  the  half  hour  after 
you  return  from  business ;  these  make  the  difference  between  the 
scholar  and  the  ignoramus,  between  the  Christian  and  the  infidel, 
between  the  saint  and  the  demon,  between  triumph  and  catastrophe, 
between  heaven  and  hell.  The  most  tremendous  things  of  your  life 
and  mine  were  certain  half  hours. 

The  half  hour  when  in  the  parsonage  of  a  country  minister  I 
v'esolved  to  become  a  Christian  then  and  there  ;  the  half  hour  when 
I  decided  to  become  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel ;  the  half  hour  when  I 
realized  that  my  son  was  dead,  the  half  hour  when  I  stood  on  the  top 


A  HALF  HOUR  IN  HEA  VEN.  501 

of  my  house  in  Oxford  street  and  saw  our  church  burn  ;  the  half  hour 
in  which  I  entered  Jerusalem  ;  the  half  hour  in  which  I  ascended  Mount 
Calvary  ;  the  half  hour  in  which  I  stood  on  Mars  Hill ;  the  half  hour  in 
which  the  dedicatory  prayer  of  this  temple  was  made,  and  about  ten  or 
fifteen  other  half  hours  are  the  chief  times  of  my  life. 

You  may  forget  the  name  of  the  exact  years  or  most  of  the 
important  events  of  your  existence,  but  those  half  hours  will  to  you  be 
immortal.  I  do  not  query  what  you  will  do  with  the  twentieth  century, 
or  with  the  present  year,  but  what  will  you  do  with  the  next  half  hour  ? 
Upon  that  hinges  your  destiny.  During  that  period  some  of  you  will 
receive  the  Gospel  and  make  complete  surrender,  and  others  of  you 
will  make  final  and  fatal  rejection  of  the  full  and  free,  and  urgent  and 
impassioned  offer  of  life  eternal. 

Oh,  that  the  next  half  hour  might  be  the  most  glorious  thirty 
minutes  of  your  earthly  existence.  Far  back  in  history  a  great 
geographer  stood  with  a  sailor  looking  at  a  globe  that  represented  our 
planet,  and  he  pointed  to  a  place  on  the  globe  where  he  thought  there 
was  an  undiscovered  continent.  The  undiscovered  continent  was 
America.  The  geographer  who  pointed  where  he  thought  there  was  a 
new  world  was  Martin  Behain,  and  the  sailor  to  whom  he  showed  it 
was  Columbus.  This  last  was  not  satisfied  till  he  had  picked  that  gem 
out  of  the  sea  and  set  it  in  the  crown  of  the  world's  geography. 

Louis  XIV,  while  walking  in  the  garden  at  Versailles,  met  Man- 
sard, the  great  architect,  and  the  architect  took  off  his  hat  before  the 
king.  "  Put  on  your  hat,"  said  the  king,  "  for  the  evening  is  damp  and 
cold."  And  Mansard,  the  architect,  the  rest  of  the  evening  kept  on 
his  hat.  The  dukes  and  marquises  standing  with  bare  heads  before 
the  king  expressed  their  surprise  at  Mansard,  but  the  king  said,  "  I  can 
make  a  duke  or  a  marquis,  but  God  only  can  make  a  Mansard."  And 
I  say  to  you,  my  hearers,  God  only  by  his  convicting  and  converting 
grace  can  make  a  Christian,  but  he  is  ready  this  very  half  hour  to 
accomplish  it. 

Is  there  no  way  for  us  to  clearly  comprehend  heaven  ?  The  word 
"eternity  "  that  we  handle  so  much  is  an  immeasurable  word.  Know- 
ing that  we  could  not  understand  that  word,  the  Bible  uses  it  only 
once.  We  say,  "Forever  and  ever."  But  how  long  is  "  Forever  and 
ever  ?  I  am  glad  that  we  have  put  under  our  eye  heaven  for  thirty 
minutes.  As  when  you  would  see  a  great  picture,  you  put  a  sheet  of 


502  A  HALF  HOUR  IN  HE  A  VEN. 

paper  into  a  scroll  and  look  through  it,  or  ioin  your  forefinger  to  your 
thumb  look  through  the  circle  between,  and  the  picture  becomes  more 
intense,  so  this  masterpiece  of  heaven  by  St.  John  is  more  impressive 
when  you  take  only  thirty  minutes  of  it  at  a  time. 

Now  we  have  something  that  we  can  come  nearer  to  grasping  and 
it  is  a  quiet  heaven.  When  we  discuss  about  the  multitudes  of  heaven, 
it  must  be  almost  a  nervous  shock  to  those  who  have  all  their  lives 
been  crowded  by  many  people  and  who  want  a  quiet  heaven.  For  the 
last  thirty-five  years  I  have  been  much  of  the  time  in  crowds  and  under 
public  scrutiny  and  amid  excitements,  and  I  sometimes  thought  for  a 
few  weeks  after  I  reach  heaven,  I  would  like  to  go  down  in  some  quiet 
part  of  the  realm,  with  a  few  friends,  and  for  a  little  while  try  com- 
parative solitude. 

You  will  find  the  inhabitants  all  at  home.  Enter  the  King's  palace 
and  take  only  a  glimpse,  for  we  have  only  thirty  minutes  for  all  heaven. 
"  Is  that  Jesus  ?  "  Yes."  Just  under  the  hair  along  his  forehead  is 
the  mark  of  a  wound  made  by  a  bunch  of  twisted  brambles,  and  his 
foot  on  the  throne  has  on  the  round  of  his  instep  another  mark  of  a 
wound  made  by  a  spike,  and  a  scar  on  the  palm  of  the  right  hand  and 
a  scar  on  the  palm  of  the  left  hand.  But,  what  a  countenance  !  What 
a  smile !  What  a  granduer !  What  a  loveliness !  What  an  over- 
whelming look  of  kindness  and  grace  !  Why,  he  looks  as  if  he  had 
redeemed  a  world  !  But  come  on,  for  our  time  is  short.  Do  you  see 
that  row  of  palaces  ?  That  is  the  Apostolic  row.  Do  you  see  that 
long  reach  of  architectural  glories  ?  That  is  Martyr  row.  Do  you  see 
that  immense  structure  ?  That  is  the  biggest  house  in  heaven  ;  that 
is  "the  House  of  Many  Mansions."  Do  you  see  that  wall?  Shade 
your  eyes  against  its  burning  splendor,  for  that  is  the  wall  of  heaven  ; 
jasper  at  the  bottom  and  amethyst  at  the  top. 

See  this  river  rolling  through  the  heart  of  the  great  metropolis  ? 
That  is  the  river  concerning  which  those  who  once  lived  on  the  banks 
of  the  Hudson,  or  the  Alabama,  or  the  Rhine,  or  the  Shannan,  say, 
"We  never  saw  the  like  of  this  for  clarity  and  sheen."  That  is  the 
chief  river  of  heaven — so  bright,  so  wide,  so  deep.  But  you  ask, 
"Where  are  the  asylums  for  the  old?"  I  answer,  "The  inhabitants 
are  all  young?"  "Where  are  the  hospitals  for  the  lame  !"  "They 
are  all  agile."  "Where  are  the  infirmaries  for  the  blind  and  deaf?" 
"They  all  see  and  hear."  Where  are  the  almshouses  for  the  poor?  " 


A  HALF  HOUR  IN  HE  A  VEN.  503 

"  They  are  all  multimillionaires."  "  Where  are  the  inebriate  asylums  ?  " 
"Why,  there  are  no  saloons."  Where  are  the  grave-yards ?"  Why, 
they  never  die." 

Pass  down  those  boulevards  of  gold  and  amber  and  sapphire  and 
see  those  interminable  streets  built  by  the  Architect  of  the  universe 
into  homes,  over  the  threshold  of  which  sorrow  never  steps,  and  out  of 
whose  windows  faces,  once  pale  with  earthly  sickness,  now  look 
rubicund  with  immortal  health.  "  Oh,  let  me  go  in  and  see  them  !  "  you 
say.  No,  you  cannot  go  in.  There  are  those  there  who  would  never 
consent  to  let  you  come  up.  You  say,  "  Let  me  stay  here  in  this 
place  where  they  never  sin,  where  they  never  suffer,  where  they  never 
part."  No,  no  !  Our  time  is  short,  our  thirty  minutes  are  almost 
gone.  Come  on  !  We  must  get  back  to  earth  before  this  half  hour 
of  heavenly  silence  breaks  up,  for  in  your  mortal  state  you  cannot 
endure  the  pomp  and  splendor  and  resonance  when  this  half  hour  of 
silence  is  ended. 

The  day  will  come  when  you  can  see  heaven  in  full  blast,  but  not 
now.  I  am  now  only  showing  you  heaven  at  the  dullest  half  hour  of 
all  the  eternities.  Come  on!  There  is  something  in  the  celestial 
appearance  which  makes  me  think  that  the  half  hour  of  silence  will  soon 
be  over.  Yonder  are  the  white  horses  being  hitched  to  chariots, 
and  yonder  are  seraphs  fingering  harps  as  if  about  to  strike  them 
into  harmony,  and  yonder  are  conquerors  taking  down  from  the  blue 
halls  of  heaven  the  trumpets  of  victory. 

Remember,  we  .are  mortal  yet,  and  cannot  endure  the  full  roll  of 
heavenly  harmonies,  and  cannot  endure  even  the  silent  heaven  for 
more  than  half  an  hour.  Hark  !  the  clock  in  the  tower  of  heaven  begins 
to  strike  and  the  half  hour  is  ended.  Descend  !  Come  back  !  Come 
down  !  till  your  work  is  done.  Shoulder  a  little  longer  your  burdens. 
Fight  a  little  longer  your  battles.  Weep  a  little  longer  your  griefs. 
And  then  take  heaven  not  in  its  dullest  half  hour,  but  in  its  mightiest 
pomp,  and  instead  of  taking  it  for  thirty  minutes,  take  it  world  with- 
out end. 

But  how  will  you  spend  the  first  half  hour  of  your  heavenly 
citizenship  after  you  have  gone  in  to  stay  ?  After  your  prostration 
before  the  throne  in  worship  of  him  who  made  it  possible  for  you  to 
get  there  at  all.  I  think  the  rest  of  your  first  half  hour  in  heaven  will 
be  passed  in  receiving  your  reward  if  you  have  been  faithful.  I  have 


504  A  HALF  HOUR  /A" 

a  strangely  beautiful  book  containing  the  pictures  of  the  medals 
by  the  English  government  in  honor  of  great  battles ;  these  medals 
pinned  over  the  heart  of  the  returned  heroes  of  the  army  on  great 
occasions,  the  royal  family  present — the  Crimean  medal,  the  Victoria 
Cross,  the  Waterloo  medal. 

In  your  first  half  hour  in  heaven  in  some  way  you  will  be  honored 
for  the  earthly  struggles  in  which  you  won  the  day.  Stand  up  before 
all  the  royal  house  of  heaven  and  receive  the  insignia  while  you  are 
announced  as  victor  over  the  droughts  and  freshets  of  the  farm  field, 
victor  over  the  temptations  of  the  stock  exchange,  victor  over  profes- 
sional allurements,  victor  over  domestic  infelicities,  victor  over 
mechanic's  shop,  victor  over  the  storehouse,  victor  over  home  worri- 
ments,  victor  over  physical  distresses,  victor  over  the  hereditary 
depressions,  victor  over  sin  and  death  and  hell.  Take  the  badge  that 
celebrates  those  victories  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Take  it  in 
the  presence  of  all  the  galleries — saintly,  angelic  and  divine  i 

Thy  saints  in  all  this  glorious  war 

Shall  conquer  though  they  die  ; 
They  see  the  triumph  from  afar 

And  seAze  it  with  their  eye. 


THE  HEAVENLY  HARVESTS 
BY  REV.  T   DEWITT  TALMAGE 


THERE  was  nothing  to  eat.    Plenty  of  corn  in  Egypt,  but  ghastly 
famine  in  Canaan.     The  cattle  moaning  in  the  stall.     Men, 
women  and  children  awfully  white  with  hunger.    Not  the  failing 
of  one  crop  for  one  summer,  but  the  failing  of  all  the  crops  for  seven 
years.     A  nation  dying  for  lack  of  that  which  is  so  common  on  your 
table,  and  so  little  appreciated ;  the  product  of  harvest-field  and  grist- 
mill and  oven  ;  the  price  of  sweat  and  anxiety  and  struggle — bread ! 
Jacob  the  father  has  the  last  report  from  the  flour  bin,  and  he  finds  that 
everything  is  out,  and  he  says  to  his  sons,  "  Boys,  hook  up  the  wagons 
and  start  for  Egypt  and  get  something  to  eat." 

The  fact  is,  there  was  a  great  corncrib  in  Egypt.  The  people  of 
Egypt  have  been  largely  taxed  in  all  ages,  at  the  present  time  paying 
between  seventy  and  eighty  per  cent,  of  their  products  to  the  govern- 
ment. No  wonder  in  that  time  they  had  a  large  corncrib  and  it  was 
full.  To  that  crib  they  came  from  the  regions  round  about — those  who 
were  famished — some  paying  for  corn  in  money  ;  when  the  money  was 
exhausted,  paying  for  the  corn  in  sheep  and  cattle,  and  horses  and 
camels  ;  and  when  they  were  exhausted,  then  selling  their  own  bodies 
and  their  families  into  slavery. 

BENJAMIN    DEMANDED. 

The  morning  for  starting  out  on  the  crusade  for  bread  has  arrived. 
Jacob  gets  his  family  up  very  early.  But  before  the  elder  sons  start 
they  say  something  that  makes  him  tremble  with  emotion  from  head  to 
foot  and  burst  into  tears.  The  fact  was  that  these  elder  sons  had  once 
before  been  in  Egypt  to  get  corn,  and  they  had  been  treated  somewhat 
roughly,  the  lord  of  the  corncrib  supplying  them  with  corn,  but  saying 
at  the  close  of  the  interview,  "  Now,  you  need  not  come  back  here  for 

5°5 


506  THE  HEAVENLY  HARVESTS. 

any  more  corn  unless  you  bring  something  better  than  money — even 
your  younger  brother  Benjamin." 

Ah  !  Benjamin — that  very  name  was  suggestive  of  all  tenderness. 
The  mother  had  died  at  the  birth  of  that  son — a  spirit  coming  and 
another  spirit  going — and  the  very  thought  of  parting  with  Benjamin 
must  have  been  a  heart  break.  The  keeper  of  this  corncrib,  never- 
theless, says  to  these  older  sons,  "There  is  no  need  of  your  coming 
here  any  more  for  corn  unless  you  bring  Benjamin,  your  father's 
darling."  Now,  Jacob  and  his  family  very  much  needed  bread ;  but 
what  a  struggle  it  would  be  to  give  up  this  son  ! 

The  Orientals  are  very  demonstrative  in  their  grief,  and  I  hear  the 
outwailing  of  the  father  as  these  older  sons  keep  reiterating  in  his  ears 
the  announcement  of  the  Egyptian  lord,  "Ye  shall  not  see  my  face 
unless  your  brother  be  with  you."  "  Why  did  you  tell  them  you  had  a 
brother?"  said  the  old  man,  complaining  and  chiding  them.  "Why, 
father,"  they  said,  "he  asked  us  all  about  our  family,  and  we  had  no 
idea  he  would  make  any  such  demand  upon  us  as  he  has  made." 
"No  use  of  asking  me,"  said  the  father,  "I  cannot,  I  will  not  give  up 
Benjamin." 

The  fact  was  that  the  old  man  had  lost  children  ;  and  when  there 
has  been  bereavement  in  a  household,  and  a  child  taken,  it  makes  the 
other  children  in  the  household  more  precious.  So  the  day  for  depart- 
ure was  adjourned  and  adjourned  arid  adjourned.  Still  the  horrors  of 
the  famine  increased,  and  louder  moaned  the  cattle,  and  wider  open 
cracked  the  earth,  and  more  pallid  became  the  cheeks,  until  Jacob,  in 
despair,  cried  out  to  his  sons,  "Take  Benjamin  and  be  off."  The  older 
sons  tried  to  cheer  up  their  father.  They  said :  "  We  have  strong 
arms  and  a  stout  heart,  and  no  harm  will  come  to  Benjamin.  We'll 
see  that  he  gets  back  again."  "Farewell !"  said  the  young  men  to  the 
father,  in  a  tone  of  assumed  good  cheer.  "  F-a-r-e-w-e-1-l !"  said  the  old 
man  ;  for  that  word  has  more  quavers  in  it  when  pronounced  by  the 
aged  than  by  the  young. 

BEFORE   THE    PRIME    MINISTER. 

Well,  the  bread  party — the  bread  embassy — drives  up  in  front  of 
the  corncrib  of  Egypt.  These  corncribs  are  filled  with  wheat  and 
barley,  and  other  grain.  Huzza  !  the  journey  is  ended.  The  lord  of 
the  corncrib,  who  is  also  the  prime  minister,  comes  down  to  these 


THE  HEAVENLY  HARVESTS.  507 

arrived  travelers  and  says,  "  Dine  with  me  to-day.  How  is  your  father  ? 
Is  this  Benjamin,  the  younger  brother,  whose  presence  I  demanded?" 

The  travelers  are  introduced  into  the  palace.  They  are  worn  and 
bedusted  ;  and  servants  come  in  with  a  basin  of  water  in  one  hand  and 
a  towel  in  the  other,  and  kneel  down  before  these  newly  arrived 
travelers,  washing  off  the  dust  of  the  way.  The  butchers  and 
poulterers  and  caterers  of  the  prime  minister  prepare  the  repast. 
The  guests  are  seated  in  small  groups,  two  or  three  at  a  table,  the  food 
on  a  tray ;  all  the  luxuries  from  imperial  gardens  and  orchards  and 
aquariums  and  aviaries  are  brought  there  and  are  filling  chalice  and 
platter. 

Now  is  the  time  for  this  prime  minister,  if  he  has  a  grudge  against 
Benjamin,  to  show  it.  Will  he  kill  him,  now  that  he  has  him  in  his 
hands  ?  Oh,  no.  This  lord  of  the  corncrib  is  seated  at  his  own  table, 
and  he  looks  over  to  the  table  of  his  guests,  and  he  sends  a  portion  to 
each  of  them,  but  sends  a  larger  portion  to  Benjamin,  or,  as  the  Bible 
quaintly  puts  it,  "Benjamin's  mess  was  five  times  so  much  as  any  of 
theirs."  Be  quick  and  send  word  back  with  the  swiftest  camel  to 
Canaan  to  old  Jacob  that  "  Benjamin  is  well ;  all  is  well ;  he  is  faring 
sumptuously ;  the  Egyptian  lord  did  not  mean  murder  and  death,  but 
he  meant  deliverance  and  life  when  he  announced  to  us  on  that  day, 
'  Ye  shall  not  see  my  face  unless  your  brother  be  with  you.' ' 

THE   STORY  APPLIED. 

Well,  how  shall  I  apply  this  story  from  the  far  past  ?  This  world 
is  famine  struck  of  sin.  It  does  not  yield  a  single  crop  of  solid  satis- 
faction. It  is  dying.  It  is  hunger  bitten.  The  fact  that  it  does  not, 
cannot,  feed  a  man's  heart  was  well  illustrated  in  the  life  of  a  well- 
known  English  comedian,  whom  all  the  world  honored  and  did  every- 
thing for  that  the  world  could  do.  He  was  applauded  in  England  and 
applauded  in  the  United  States.  He  roused  up  nations  into  laughter. 
He  had  no  equal.  And  yet,  although  many  people  supposed  him 
entirely  happy,  and  that  this  world  was  completely  satiating  his  soul, 
he  sat  down  and  wrote  :  "  I  never  in  my  life  put  on  a  new  hat  that  it 
did  not  rain  and  ruin  it.  I  never  went  out  in  a  shabby  coat  because  it 
was  raining,  and  I  thought  that  all  who  had  the  choice  would  keep  in- 
doors, that  the  sun  did  not  burst  forth  in  its  strength  and  bring  out 
with  it  all  the  butterflies  of  fashion  whom  I  knew  and  who  knew  me, 


508  THE  HEAVENLY  HARVESTS. 

I  never  consented  to  accept  a  part  I  hated,  out  of  kindness  to  another, 
that  I  did  not  get  hissed  by  the  public  and  cut  by  the  writer.  I  could 
not  take  a  drive  for  a  few  minutes  with  Terry  without  being  overturned 
and  having  my  elbow-bone  broken,  though  my  friend  got  off  unharmed. 
I  could  not  make  a  covenant  with  Arnold,  which  I  thought  was  to  make 
my  fortune  without  making  his  instead,  than  in  an  incredible  space  of 
time — I  think  thirteen  months — I  earned  for  him  twenty  thousand 
pounds  and  for  myself  one.  I  am  persuaded  that  if  I  were  to  set  up 
as  a  beggar,  every  one  in  my  neighborhood  would  leave  off  eating 
bread."  That  was  the  lament  of  the  world's  comedian  and  joker.  All 
unhappy. 

The  world  did  everything  for  Lord  Byron  that  it  could  do,  and  yet 
in  his  last  moment  he  asks  a  friend  to  come  and  sit  down  by  him  and 
read,  as  most  appropriate  to  his  case,  the  story  of  "The  Bleeding 
Heart."  Torrigiano,  the  sculptor,  executed,  after  months  of  care  and 
carving,  "  Madonna  and  the  Child."  The  royal  family  came  in  and 
admired  it.  Everybody  that  looked  at  it  was  in  ecstasy,  but  one  day, 
after  all  that  toil,  and  all  that  admiration,  because  he  did  not  get  as 
much  compensation  for  his  work  as  he  had  expected,  he  took  a  mallet 
and  dashed  the  exquisite  sculpture  into  atoms.  The  world  is  poor 
compensation,  poor  satisfaction,  poor  solace.  Famine,  famine,  in  all 
the  earth  ;  not  for  seven  years,  but  for  six  thousand. 

THE    CORNCRIB    OF    HEAVEN. 

But,  blessed  be  God,  there  is  a  great  corncrib.  The  Lord  built  it. 
It  is  in  another  land.  It  is  a  large  place.  An  angel  once  measured  it, 
and  as  far  as  I  can  calculate  it  in  our  phrase,  that  corncrib  is  fifteen 
hundred  miles  long  and  fifteen  hundred  broad  and  fifteen  hundred 
high;  and  it  is  full.  Food  for  all  nations.  "Oh!"  say  the  people, 
"we  will  start  right  away  and  get  this  supply  for  our  soul."  But  stop 
a  moment ;  for  from  the  keeper  of  that  corncrib  there  comes  this  word, 
saying,  "You  shall  not  see  my  face  except  your  brother  be  with  you." 

In  other  words,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  getting  from  heaven 
pardon  and  comfort  and  eternal  life,  unless  we  bring  with  us  our  divine 
brother,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Coming  without  him  we  shall  fall  be- 
fore we  reach  the  corncrib,  and  our  bodies  shall  be  a  portion  for  the 
jackals  of  the  wilderness,  but  coming  with  the  Divine  Jesus,  all  the 
granaries  of  heaven  will  swing  open  before  our  soul,  and  abundance 


THE  HEAVENLY  HARVESTS.  509 

shall  be  given  us.  We  shall  be  invited  to  sit  in  the  palace  of  the  king 
and  at  the  table,  and  while  the  Lord  of  heaven  is  apportioning  from  his 
own  table  to  other  tables  he  will  not  forget  us,  and  then  and  there  it 
will  be  found  that  our  Benjamin's  mess  is  larger  than  all  the  others, 
for  so  it  ought  to  be.  ''Worthy  is  the  lamb  that  was  slain,  to  receive 
blessing  and  riches  and  honor  and  glory  and  power." 

TRUE    SOURCE    OF   COMFORT. 

What  is  the  reason  so  many  people  do  not  get  any  real  comfort 
out  of  life  ?  You  meet  ten  people,  and  nine  of  them  are  in  need  of 
some  kind  of  condolence.  There  is  something  in  their  health,  or  in 
their  state,  or  in  their  domestic  condition,  that  demands  sympathy. 
And  yet  the  most  of  the  world's  sympathy  amounts  to  absolutely 
nothing.  People  go  to  the  wrong  crib,  or  they  go  in  the  wrong  way. 
When  the  plague  was  in  Rome  a  great  many  years  ago,  there  were 
eighty  men  who  chanted  themselves  to  death  with  the  litanies  of 
Gregory  the  Great — literally  chanted  themselves  to  death,  and  yet  they 
did  not  stop  the  plague.  And  all  the  music  of  the  world  cannot  halt 
the  plague  of  the  human  heart. 

I  come  to  some  one  whose  ailments  are  chronic,  and  I  say,  "In 
heaven  you  will  never  be  sick."  That  does  not  give  you  much  comfort. 
What  you  want  is  a  soothing  power  for  your  present  distress.  Lost 
children,  have  you  ?  I  come  to  tell  you  that  in  ten  years  perhaps  you 
will  meet  these  loved  ones  before  the  throne  of  God.  But  there  is  but 
little  condolence  in  that.  One  day  is  a  year  without  them,  and  ten 
years  is  a  small  eternity.  What  you  want  is  a  sympathy  now — present 
help.  I  come  to  those  of  you  who  have  lost  dear  friends,  and  say : 
"Try  to  forget  them.  Do  not  keep  the  departed  always  in  your  mind." 
How  can  you  forget  them  when  every  figure  in  the  carpet,  and  every 
book,  and  every  picture,  and  every  room  calls  out  their  name  ? 

How  many  unuttered  troubles  !  No  human  ear  has  ever  heard 
the  sorrow.  O  troubled  soul,  I  want  to  tell  you  that  there  is  one  salve 
that  can  cure  the  wounds  of  the  heart,  and  that  is  the  salve  made  out 
of  the  tears  of  a  sympathetic  Jesus.  And  yet  some  of  you  will  not 
take  this  solace  ;  and  you  try  chloral  and  you  try  morphine  £.nd  you  try 
strong  drink  and  you  try  change  of  scene  and  you  try  new  business 
associations  and  everything  and  anything  rather  than  take  divine  com- 
panionship and  sympathy.  Oh,  that  you  might  understand  something 


5  io  THE  HE  A  VENL  Y  HAR  VESTS. 

of  the  height  and  depth  and  length  and  breadth  and  immensity  and 
infinity  of  God's  eternal  consolations. 

We  are  told  that  heaven  has  twelve  gates,  and  some  people  infer 
from  that  fact  that  all  the  people  will  go  in  without  reference  to  their 
past  life.  But  what  is  the  use  of  having  a  gate  that  is  not  sometimes 
to  be  shut?  The  swinging  of  a  gate  implies  that  our  entrance  into 
heaven  is  conditional.  It  is  not  a  monetary  condition.  If  we  come  to 
the  door  of  an  exquisite  concert  we  are  not  surprised  that  we  must  pay 
a  fee,  for  we  know  that  fine  earthly  music  is  expensive  ;  but  all  the 
oratories  of  heaven  cost  nothing. 

Heaven  pays  nothing  for  its  music.  It  is  all  free.  There  is  nothing 
to  be  paid  at  that  door  for  entrance,  but  the  condition  of  getting  into 
heaven  is  our  bringing  our  divine  Benjamin  along  with  us.  Do  you 
notice  how  often  dying  people  call  upon  Jesus  ?  It  is  the  usual  prayer 
offered — the  prayer  offered  more  than  all  the  other  prayers  put  together 
— "Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit." 

SEEKING    FOOD    ETERNAL. 

If  Jacob's  sons  had  gone  toward  Egypt,  and  had  gone  with  the 
yery  finest  equipage,  and  had  not  taken  Benjamin  along  with  them, 
and  to  the  question  they  should  have  been  obliged  to  answer,  "Sir,  we 
didn't  bring  him,  as  father  could  not  let  him  go  ;  we  didn't  want  to  be 
bothered  with  him,"  a  voice  from  within  would  have  said:  "Go  away 
from  us.  You  shall  not  have  any  of  this  supply.  You  shall  not  see 
my  face  because  your  brother  is  not  with  you."  And  if  we  come  up 
toward  the  door  of  heaven  at  last,  though  we  come  from  all  luxuriance 
and  brilliancy  of  surroundings,  and  knock  for  admittance,  and  it  is 
(bund  that  Christ  is  not  with  us,  the  police  of  heaven  will  beat  us  back 
from  the  breadhouse,  saying,  "  Depart,  I  never  knew  you." 

If  Jacob's  sons,  coming  toward  Egypt,  had  lost  everything  on  the 
*vay ;  if  they  had  expended  their  last  shekel ;  if  they  had  come  up 
atterly  exhausted  to  the  corncribs  of  Egypt,  and  it  had  been  found  that 
Benjamin  was  with  them,  all  the  storehouses  would  have  swung  open 
before  them.  And  so,  though  by  fatal  casualty  we  may  be  ushered 
into  the  eternal  world  ;  though  we  may  be  weak  and  exhausted  by 
protracted  sickness — if,  in  that  last  moment,  we  can  only  just  stagger, 
and  faint  and  fall  into  the  gate  of  heaven — it  seems  that  all  the  corn- 
cribs  of  heaven  will  open  for  our  need  and  all  the  palaces  will  open  for 


THE  HEAVENLY  HARVESTS.  511 

our  reception  ;  and  the  Lord  of  that  place,  seated  at  his  table,  and  all 
the  angels  of  God  seated  at  their  table,  and  the  martyrs  seated  at  their 
table,  and  all  our  glorified  kindred  seated  at  our  table,  the  king  shall 
pass  a  portion  from  his  table  to  ours,  and  then,  while  we  think  of  the 
fact  that  it  was  Jesus  who  started  us  on  the  road,  and  Jesus  who  kept 
us  on  the  way,  and  Jesus  who  at  last  gained  admittance  for  our  soul, 
we  shall  be  glad  if  he  has  seen  of  the  travail  ot  his  soul  and  been  sat- 
isfied, and  not  be  at  all  jealous  if  it  be  found  that  our  divine  Benjamin's 
mess  is  five  times  larger  than  all  the  rest.  Hail  !  anointed  of  the  Lord. 
Thou  art  worthy. 


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